Redemption
by Solanio
Summary: Aeryn is offered a chance to return to her former life. But to do so, she must sacrifice her current companions - and John.


_Farscape, the Farscape characters, and the Farscape universe are the creations of Rockne S. O'Bannon and are owned entirely by the [**Jim Henson Company**][1] and Farscape Productions. Use of these characters here is only for entertainment value, with no intent to infringe upon the rights of the owning organizations and parties._

_For further information on the Farscape Universe, please visit the [**Farscape Web Page**][2] at [**Sci-Fi.com**][3] and the [**Jim Henson Company Farscape Fan Site**][4] for episode listings, air times, and background information on the show and on the stars._

## **Redemption**

_**by Solanio - 10.15.99**_

Time: Sometime between Human Reaction and Through the Looking Glass  
Spoilers: Exodus From Genesis, DNA: Mad Scientist, A Bug's Life 

"Aeryn, hand me that thingamajig again," John told her, his head buried deep inside the forward portion of Farscape 1.  
Aeryn looked over the assembly of biotools, trying to remember just which of them John was calling a "thingamajig." She handed him a microwelder.  
He touched the tool. "No, not that doohickey. The thing that helps adjust the energy regulation. The thing with the squishy handle."  
Aeryn silently took back the microwelder and handed John a gelid injection gland.  
"Man, this thing feels weird." John made his comment while taking the gelid injector from Aeryn. "I don't know if I'm ever going to get used to biomechanoid tools. - Woo-wee! And that smell!" John wafted the air past his nose, trying to get a clean breath.  
Nonetheless, Aeryn was amazed at how quickly John had learned aspects of biomechanoid technology. He had converted parts of his rudimentary spacecraft that had failed or were deficient, with parts gleaned from Moya and her stores. However, this mastery of the technology did not include learning the proper names for some of the tools. Those he could not remember, he had christened with unintelligible terms, for which the translator microbes had so far failed to provide any remedy.  
John had made his main conversions some time before. But since then, he had insisted on going through a regular process of reworking his modifications whenever he had spare time. Soon it had become apparent, to Aeryn and the rest of Moya's crew, that John seemed to enjoy what was almost a ritual of disassembly and rebuilding. It seemed to give him some modest satisfaction to continually rework his designs, hoping to come up with even minute gains in performance. Regarding the rudimentary construction of John's ship, Aeryn felt that ultimately it was a waste of time. But time was the one thing they had in abundance.  
Watching John work, Aeryn commented, "You would have made a good, tech."  
John knew Aeryn well enough then to know that she wasn't complimenting him. She was just making an open observation.  
"When I was a kid, when I wasn't gazing through my telescope or playing with my chemistry set, my biggest dream was to become a NASCAR driver. I had this old chevy that used to belong to my grandpa. I spent hours after school souping it up until it was the hottest hunka junk in the county. When I was legal to drive, I used it in stock races against all the locals. Kicked their asses too. Then it got totaled in a head-on my first year of college."  
"Naskar?" Aeryn asked.  
John removed himself from Farscape 1 and waved the gelid injector in one hand while trying to think of a way to explain his youth in terms a Peacekeeper could understand.  
"I guess you could say, I was kind of a road warrior - wore a black leather jacket, hair slicked back. Whooped it up a bunch. Got pissed on a lot of beer. Pissed a lot of beer too. How 'bout you? What did you do when you were that age - say sixteen, seventeen cycles? Were you a good little Peacekeeper, maybe went to Peacekeeper prom? - Hey, hand me that doolywop, would you." John's tone was mildly irreverent as it often was when it was just Aeryn and himself.  
Aeryn handed John an accelerant prod. Holding the bristly green tool made John think he was holding a giant grasshopper leg.  
"I was still in officers' training," she told him. "I had only been flying light fighter craft, scrubrunners and some of the KL series. We would come in after a battle and clean up, picking off stragglers, capturing or killing the enemy wounded while rescuing our own pilots. I started serious pilot training at sixteen. On graduation, I was required to do a tour of ground duty where I - 'whooped it up bunches' - as you would say, 'kicking really big bunches of asses' in various planetary campaigns. I hoped I would go into marauders after that, but I ended up as a prowler pilot."  
"You killed people before you were sixteen - and_ then_ you got serious?"  
Aeryn nodded. "I was fourteen when I got my first kill outside of training."  
John had stopped working on Farscape to listen to Aeryn. After she'd finished, his shocked surprise remained frozen for a moment on his face. "Well,..." He paused searching for the right comment. "That's pretty sad, Aeryn. Anyway, remind me to stay on your good side. - I'm glad at least that I got to let my hair down and have some fun before I went to college. Doesn't sound like you had that chance." John returned his attention to the work at hand. "O.K., now hand me that whatchahoosits again," he said, giving back the prod. His head disappeared back inside the shuttle.  
Aeryn scowled, while lifting up some of the dark hair cascading down around her shoulders to take a closer look at it. Giving up on making any sense of John's last statement, she took back the accelerant and handed him an offset phase integrator.  
"But I had a very fulfilled youth," she insisted, surprised by his comment. "I enjoyed what I was doing."  
John's muffled voice replied from inside the shuttle. "The fact that you enjoyed it is what bothers me, Aeryn."  
John's head popped back into view. "Hey! I didn't want this. I wanted the other whatchahoosits. I need to realign the couplings to the enzyme whatzits."  
"You asked for a whatchahoosits. I gave you a whatchahoosits." She picked up the coupling fastener. "You said this is a whatchamacalit."  
"Whatever."  
"No, not a whatever, a whatchamacalit."  
"Aeryn," John sighed, "It doesn't matter. Just give me the tool."  
But she didn't give it to him. She just held it up in her hand, staring at him. Aeryn felt something crowding her mind and forgot all about what she was saying or doing. It was a large feeling. Powerful, it pushed everything else out of Aeryn's focus until she felt it so strongly that she knew that it came from Moya. This strange empathy had started a few days ago and now it seemed to grow stronger by the day. But Aeryn couldn't understand what she was feeling. The thoughts were too alien. So often she was on the verge of comprehension. Then it would vanish, leaving only mental echoes like a dreamer's last dream.  
"Hello? Aeryn? Are you all right?"  
Aeryn shook her head. "What?" Looking at the tool in her hand, she handed it to him.  
"What was that? What just happened?" John asked her. He looked at her with a mixed expression that was half concern and half annoyance, as if he were unsure on which to settle upon.  
Aeryn shook her head. "I don't know. I just..." She looked at the nearby walls. "It was nothing."  
Seeing that Aeryn had no further comment, John regarded her for a moment and then went back to work. He decided to shift the subject.  
"Aeryn, you never told me about your parents."  
"You mean, people like your father? I didn't have parents. I had Officers of Training."  
"What?" John found this hard to believe. "You just popped out of a test tube? I've seen your belly button, Aeryn. You had to have been born somewhere. Or do they just hatch Peacekeepers out of jars?"  
"I grew up in a colony ward," she told him. "I was raised with other children destined to become officers. Had I failed at any time, the Officers of Training would have demoted me to the ground combat wards - or worse, wards for technicians or scientists. I know I was born to someone. She gave me my name. Beyond that, I know nothing."  
She looked at him. "There's no dishonor at being a technician or scientist," she told him, feeling his human sensibilities might have misconstrued her comment. "They're valued crew. It's just that in my culture, the highest honor is to be a warrior - and among warriors, to be an officer."  
"Yeah, I know, Aeryn. We lesser races just do things differently."  
"You're a commander," she said. " That makes you an officer, and a pilot." Looking at the shuttle, she added, "...of sorts. Surely your culture must value you very highly."  
"I guess," John agreed. "But I wasn't born a scientist. I busted my butt to get where I am."  
John thought about what he had just said. He looked up and saw that Aeryn was staring at his behind with a perplexed look on her face.  
"That was an expression, Aeryn."  
"Oh..." She nodded. "But what if you could change your life? Would you go back and fly your Naskars instead of becoming a scientist? - knowing what you know now?"  
John shrugged. "I don't think so. I've been very happy being a scientist. I just wish some of the outcomes could've been different. What about you? If you could go back, what would you change?"  
Aeryn didn't answer. Her body stiffened and she turned away so that he couldn't see her face. She had not meant to lead the conversation in this direction. John, his head buried inside the shuttle, did not see or know the effect of what, for him, had been an innocent and nonchalant question. Aeryn changed the subject before he could notice.  
She cleared her throat. "Why do you always refer to your ship as female, when so little of it is biomechanoid?"  
"Are you kidding? 'She's my baby, she's my honey, she's my farscape gal.'" Popping his head out, John did a little dance as he grabbed another tool. "This sweetie is going to get me home, Aeryn. And you know what they say, 'home is where the heart is.'"  
"Yes, I know very well your heart is not on Moya. You made that clear enough at that last wormhole!" Aeryn snapped. She said this and immediately wanted to take it back. Caught by John's flippancy, she had let her true feelings come out.  
This time, John realized what he had just said and how it would effect Aeryn. He felt like a righteous heel.  
"Aeryn, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way."  
Aeryn found John's sympathy grating. It was worse than indifference.  
"John, you have no need to apologize. Which one of us wouldn't go home if we could? The fact that I can't - that shouldn't stop anyone - you especially."  
But something happened just then. John's reply became muffled and distant. Aeryn wasn't the only one afraid it seemed. But Moya's fear was of a different sort - more instinct than emotion. Moya's alien thoughts registered much stronger this time, joining themselves to Aeryn's comprehension. At that point, Aeryn realized that she and the others had been the insensitive ones. Moya had been warning them for days and they had just ignored her. If Aeryn was correct, and she dearly hoped not, they were all in real danger.  
John put his tool down. Words were sometimes a trap, leading you into dark places where there was no easy way out again. Having fallen into this awkward silence, John struggled to find a word or words that would pull them out again. Brushing his hair back, he looked at Aeryn. She was staring at the brown walls of the hanger, probably so he couldn't see her face.  
"Aeryn, you did what you thought was right - and I'm sorry it cost you. But maybe being a Peacekeeper isn't everything in the universe. Maybe not being a Peacekeeper isn't the end of life as you know it. No matter where I am, Aeryn... Aeryn, I just want you to know that you're not alone in all of this." He paused to look at her, to see how she was taking it all. She wasn't there.  
He was alone.  
"Aeryn?"

Command was dark and empty when Aeryn walked in. Shadows flew everywhere in the microns before the glow cells brightened sufficiently to melt them away. She didn't pause for the darkness to end but plunged into it, standing over the sensor panel, her eyes hungry for what the light would reveal.  
"Greetings, Aeryn Sun." Pilot said, his holograph winking into view inside the comm shell.  
"Greetings, Pilot. How is Moya doing?"  
"She is uneasy. Her sensors are erratic. It is a factor of her pregnancy as her body shifts to new hormones for this stage of the gestation."  
"Is she still seeing sensor ghosts?" Aeryn asked him.  
"Yes, but everyone seems satisfied that they are merely instrument aberrations."  
"Everyone? You don't believe that, am I right, Pilot?"  
Sharing Pilot's DNA had proved to be a strange blessing at times. There were moments where she felt a powerful commonality with him. This had grown stronger of late. Pilot had explained it as a manifestation of Moya's pregnancy and the strange wash of hormones coursing through her ducts. Aeryn saw the ghost on the panel. It was a minor permutation of background cosmic radiation, hardly recognizable as anything.  
Pilot exhaled. Contradicting others was not in his nature. But the truth was, he did have a different understanding of Moya's current condition.  
"I have heard that pregnancy heightens a leviathan's senses. It does not dull them. That is my understanding, anyway."  
"Pilot, can you give me manual control?"  
"Yes, certainly."  
"And Pilot, you'd better get the others up here."

The shilquen hummed, creating a noise that was soft and pervasive. Powerful subharmonics moved the air of the chamber, much as the air inside the instrument's own hollow body reverberated. Deft large fingers plucked the strings, causing them to shudder and speak, or with a soft touch, to quiet slowly. The marriage of movement and sound painted the moment with the soul of the player. It was a primal song that spoke a sad and lonely keening, echoes of a memory that meant both love and loss.  
"I am truly sorry to interrupt such a beautiful song, Ka D'Argo."  
Zhaan stepped into the chamber, seeming to more glide than walk. D'Argo slapped his hand over the strings, violently ending the song, but not the feelings which still continued to play in his mind.  
"Zhaan," D'Argo growled. "This is not a good time."  
"Yes I know." Zhaan gave D'Argo a gentle half smile. "Aeryn and Pilot were are to contact you. When they couldn't, they asked me to come fetch you."   
"I turned off the speakers. I did not want to be disturbed."  
Zhaan nodded once. "I understand. But Aeryn says she needs us in Command. She says to hurry."  
D'Argo did not hesitate. Placing the instrument on his bed, he was out the door with a few strides, leaving Zhaan to follow after him.

"Aeryn, hey. What the hell's goin on? Why did you take off like that?" John asked, being the second to arrive in Command after Aeryn's summons.  
"What is going on?" D'Argo echoed, charging into the room, Zhaan right behind him.  
"Just what I was going to ask," Rygel added, hovering into view.  
Chiana, who'd been the first to arrive, remained off to Aeryn's side, blending into the background, listening but saying nothing. John nodded to her once, but no one else seemed to take notice of the Nebari.  
"John, I need you to monitor the sensor readings," Aeryn asked. "D'Argo, I need you on tracking."  
D'Argo and John did as they were asked and looked at the panels. When they next looked at each other, their questioning expressions confirmed that neither saw any reason for Aeryn's request.  
"Do you see what's there?" Aeryn asked.  
"What I see," D'Argo growled, "is that you have interrupted us for no reason."  
He was about to voice something more vitriolic when Zhaan held up her hand, silently asking everyone to remain quiet. Zhaan calmly approached Aeryn, who remained focused on the huge viewscreen in front of her. Aeryn's right hand was on Moya's manual controls.  
"Aeryn, what is it? Tell us what it is that you see," Zhaan urged her.  
"We're being shadowed," she announced. "Those sensor ghosts we've been seeing, they're anything but."  
John looked at his panel again, just to make sure. "Aeryn, we went through this before. There's nothing out there. You went out in your prowler. I went out in Farscape 1. We checked and never saw a thing."  
"No," Aeryn insisted. "We had convinced ourselves that they were sensor ghosts before we investigated. We saw exactly what we expected to see - nothing, which is what our shadows want. Moya tried to tell us through Pilot. But we doubted her and convinced her that our doubt, not her perceptions, was the reality. But inside, she knows she is right. And she's frightened. I feel it."  
"That is your opinion, nothing more," D'Argo insisted."You've wasted enough of our time." He started heading back to his quarters.  
"Hold on. Hold on," John said, raising his hands. "Let's hear Aeryn out. We know she has some of Pilot's DNA. If Aeryn says that something is out there, I think we should take another look at this."  
"Why can't we just starburst out of here?" Chiana asked, finally voicing an opinion. She was desperately afraid that the Nebari might find her someday and it showed on her face.  
Zhaan turned to Chiana. "Moya's pregnancy prevents her from starburst without long periods of rest in between. She won't be ready for some time."  
"It does not matter," D'Argo said, his fleshlocks swinging as he turned to address the rest of the crew. "If Aeryn and John wish to chase phantoms, that is their concern."  
Without turning her gaze from the viewscreen, Aeryn answered D'Argo. "Peacekeepers are not prone to fantasy, D'Argo. I assure you that whatever is out there, it is very real."  
"Prove it then," D'Argo challenged her.  
Aeryn gave him a half smile. "Somehow, I knew you were going to say that. Keep an eye on the tracking data and tell me if you see anything."  
Reluctantly, D'Argo walked back to the tracking panel, leaning over it, his body rigid with impatience.  
"Ready," he growled.  
"Pilot?" Aeryn called out.  
Pilot's face winked into being, coming into focus inside the comm shell.  
"Ready, Aeryn Sun."  
"Everyone hold on to something," Aeryn warned them.  
"What? What?" Rygel barked.  
John started to ask, "Aeryn, what're you...?"  
Aeryn twisted the controls in her hand and Moya lurched violently to port while she accelerated. Zhaan, Chiana and Rygel, barely given enough warning, only just managed to grab onto something and stop themselves from being tossed in the opposite direction. John and D'Argo, anchored as they were to the panels, fared a little better. Aeryn continued to put Moya through tortuous maneuvers, tossing the crew to one side or another. Sometimes the deck would slam upward, nearly buckling their knees, only to drop from beneath their feet, causing them to fall.  
"Aeeeeryyyynnn, stooooooop!" Rygel begged while the lag in his gravsled caused him to toss right and left.  
Aeryn finally did ease back on the controls, allowing Moya to resume a more normal course.  
"Well, D'Argo?"  
Aeryn turned to the Luxan, waiting for his answer.  
D'Argo lifted his head up slowly. His eyes showed his surprise.  
"D'Argo?" John asked. "What did you see?"  
"For a moment, the sensor ghost failed to keep pace. Then it corrected itself, accelerating to match us. It is still out there, matching us, perfectly."

"What is the current direction of the leviathan?" the Captain of the _Reyahko_, asked.  
"It has returned to its former course," her second, Lieutenant Tor, answered.  
The bustle in the ship's Command Bridge returned to normal, the crisis of the course change having passed as quickly as it had appeared.  
Lord Turan Vykir appeared on the bridge, wearing a simple Peacekeeper uniform, black without insignia. Though he wore no rank badges, there was no doubt to anyone onboard the scout carrier of the power present in this one man. A member of the Supreme Council, his was the ultimate authority over anyone in the Peacekeeper Fleet. His mere scowl could send a person to their death or exile; his smile was a promotion or pardon. His presence onboard the _Reyahko_ was the matter of constant speculation among the crew, as was the very reason why the Council had sent their ship deep inside the Uncharted Territories. Some speculated that they were an advance scout for an invading armada that would subjugate the the vast Uncharted Territories to end the piracy and smuggling that had spilled from these sectors across the perimeter. Others conjectured that they were really in search of the lost _Zalbinion_, a ship out of legend whose loss a hundred cycles before continued to haunt the imaginations of Sebaceans everywhere. However neither of these theories or any of the others abound onboard could explain the last few days' fascination with a rogue leviathan. Masquing their own presence by the sophisticated sensor jamming equipment onboard, the very latest Peacekeeper technology, the Captain and Lord Vykir had shown a singular attention to this mostly unremarkable vessel.  
Though Lord Vykir did not interfere in her command, the Captain couldn't help but be reminded of his overwhelming presence no matter where he was on her ship. But with time, she had grown accustomed to his hovering in the background and had even come to welcome the odd bits of wisdom and observation that he occasionally offered. But though his persona was powerful, Vykir seemed to do what he could to remain out of the way. Thus the crew, with some effort, could also force themselves to forget about him and somehow do their jobs without preoccupation.  
The Captain brushed a dark strand of black hair out of her eyes. Her hair had grown long in the months of their patrols in the Uncharted Territories. Though she had meant to have it cut back to its usual severe length some time ago, there was always something more important that had surfaced - and so her forgotten hair had grown, the bits of careworn grey more and more submerged by black locks that framed her scarred and lined face, making it appear slightly softer. Of course, any hint of softness in the Captain was but an illusion. The stare of her blue eyes was cold; the lines of her thin lips were grim; and the set of her mind was fixed and unwavering to whatever task was at hand.  
At that moment, she was considering the rogue leviathan. They had encountered it some days before while on patrol. Though it was missing its control collar, its markings identified it as one of the prison transports belonging to the charge of Captain Bialar Crais. It was just the break they were looking for. Shadowing it, intending to appear as nothing more than a sensor ghost, if even that, they had waited patiently for the leviathan to either rendezvous with Crais' ship or to send it some signal. So far, neither had happened and the course of the biomechanoid ship was taking them further and further into uncharted space.  
As impressive as the new stealth technology was, it had its limits. This had been demonstrated a few days earlier when the leviathan had suddenly stopped, disgorging two ships from its hold. One was a Peacekeeper prowler that had gone in the opposite direction; the other was a strange primitive craft which had come very close to the _Reyahko_, but which true to the promise of the scientists and techs that had built the ship, flew by, seeing evidence of nothing. Then just in the last few moments, the leviathan had surprised everyone by suddenly shifting course. It careened in a wild tortured way as if a thousand prowlers were fast upon it. The crew, professionals all, were not complacent and managed to nearly match the course perfectly, as they had all along. But the 'nearly' concerned the Captain, who now had to consider the choices before her. Certainly the crew of the leviathan was suspicious and at some level, aware of their presence.  
The Captain addressed her communications officer.  
"Officer Orlac, during the course of the recent maneuvers, did the leviathan attempt any communication?"  
"None, Captain," the lieutenant answered.  
"I want you to jam any communications that that ship attempts," she ordered.  
"A change of tactics, Captain?" Vykir asked, stepping forward from the shadows.  
"The game grows old, my Lord," the _Reyahko's_ Captain answered. "No doubt those aboard that leviathan are aware of our presence, despite the technological wonders of this new ship you've given us. It is time we got some answers, and the only way to do so is to interrogate the crew and prisoners aboard it."  
"And if it should attempt to go into starburst?" Vykir asked.  
"Then we will destroy it before it has the chance. Do you wish me to order some other action, my Lord?"  
"Not at all, Captain. You have my full confidence. I only care about the outcome. How you achieve it is of no concern to me."  
"Launch the marauders," the Captain ordered.

"Pilot, where did the marauder appear from?" D'Argo asked.  
"I'm not sure," Pilot answered. "It is heading on a direct intercept course."  
"We'll never outrun it," Aeryn advised.  
"I am perfectly aware of that!" D'Argo said, revealing more and more temper. "Pilot! We need starburst - NOW!"  
Pilot sighed. "Moya will not have starburst capability for several more arns. We have only a fraction of the necessary power."  
"Pilot," John called out. "What about the shield we brought aboard from the Zalbinion. Can you activate that?"  
"Yes. But I will need to charge it first."  
"What! We hefted that thing onboard and you never charged it! Why the hell not?" John asked, outraged.  
"You never asked me to," Pilot calmly replied.  
"Obviously neither of these plans are going to work," Zhaan said, feeling compelled to remind D'Argo and John of the point that seemed to momentarily escape them. "We need another option."  
"I'm working on it, Zhaan," John replied testily.  
"The marauder has moved to block our course," Pilot announced. "Two more marauders have appeared behind us and are in pursuit."  
"Three marauders!" Rygel cried out. "We're doomed!"  
"Hey Sparky," John called out. "Put a sock in it, all right?"  
"I am a Dominar!" Rygel insisted. "I don't have to put up with that from you!"  
"Where's Chiana?" Zhaan asked, looking around.  
Chiana was no where to be seen and no one else seemed to want to offer either knowledge or concern about her whereabouts.  
Aeryn was the only one who could think of something to do in the crisis.  
"Pilot, give me back manual control again." Aeryn started to steer Moya with much the same technique as she'd used earlier to decloak their pursuers."  
"Four marauders..." Pilot started to say.  
"FOUR marauders!" John yelled. "You're telling me there are now FOUR marauders? Where the hell are they all coming from?"  
"No," Pilot corrected him. "I was going to say that there are four more marauders, for a total of seven."  
Moya shuddered from a nearby explosion.  
"That was close," Zhaan commented.  
"I cannot outmaneuver seven marauders!" Aeryn announced. "One of you had better think of something quick!"  
"None of the marauders seems to be from Crais' ship," Pilot informed them.  
"That's very interesting," D'Argo said not bothering to masque his sarcasm. "But I don't see that it makes much difference whose Peacekeepers kill us. We will be just as dead."  
"O.K. - I got it!" John announced to everyone.  
"What do you want us to do, John?" Zhaan asked him.  
John turned to Rygel. "We still have those two Peacekeeper uniforms, right? The ones that were left behind?"  
"Yes," Rygel nodded. "D'Argo wanted to jettison them but I thought they might be useful for trade or something. Never throw anything away that can be traded to the ignorant is my motto."  
"Sparky, you're beautiful!" John smiled.  
"Why?" D'Argo asked. "What use could those possibly have?"  
John walked over to Aeryn, who was preoccupied with flying Moya. The viewscreen glowed white from several near miss explosions that bloomed out in space, rocking the leviathan.  
John steadied himself by grabbing onto Aeryn. "Because we have our own Peacekeeper, right? And to anyone who's never met me before, I could pass for a Sebacean"  
"Yes, but I'm an escaped fugitive like the rest of you," Aeryn pointed out.  
"But those aren't Crais' boys and girls out there," John reminded her, pointing at the screen. "They don't know about you just like they don't know about me. You just put on that captain's uniform, and I'll be your trusty lieutenant."  
"And what are we supposed to do?" Rygel asked.  
"I want you to get back in your cells," John told them. "They'll just think you're prisoners, right? Aeryn and I will be your guards. Then Aeryn and I can let you out later when they've left." He looked around, waiting for their answers. He didn't have to wait long.  
"John, I'm sorry," Zhaan told him. "That is the most ridiculous plan I have ever heard. You propose that we just let them board us?"  
"I have to agree with Zhaan," Aeryn told him. "First, we don't even know if those uniforms would fit either of us. And you certainly could never pass for a Peacekeeper, let alone a lieutenant."  
"I will never allow myself to be caged ever again," D'Argo growled, making John grimace from his breath. "Especially for such a ridiculous fiction."  
"Fine," John nodded. "You got a better plan?"  
"Yes," D'Argo said, "We fight."  
"That is not a plan, D'Argo" John countered. "It's suicide."  
"Very well," D'Argo agreed. "Next time we encounter strange Peacekeepers, we'll do it your way, Crichton. This time, we fight. We kill as many as we can."  
"Next time? There's not going to be a next time cause we're going to die if we try to fight our way out of this!"  
"Exactly! Better to die gloriously in freedom than to be a wretched captive," D'Argo told him.  
"Typical Luxan strategy" Zhaan added. "Direct, but it lacks subtlety. Has anyone considered Moya in all of this? If we fight, she and her baby could be hurt or killed."  
There was a strong buffet and a groaning sound like tearing metal.  
"Something just hit us?" John asked.  
"We've been hit by something," Aeryn agreed. "And something's wrong. I can feel it in Moya. - I'm loosing power!"  
"Pilot?" Zhaan called out. "Pilot can you hear me?"  
There was no answer.  
"Pilot?" John echoed. "Talk to me."  
"What's that smell?" Aeryn asked, sniffing.  
She looked over and saw that Rygel had collapsed, unconscious. Then she realized what she was smelling, but by then it was too late. In a matter of microns, all of them had fallen asleep.

John woke up to a fierce pain in his eyes as his brain resurfaced to consciousness. He was yanked to his feet, which had been shackled, along with his hands.  
"Name, rank, and regiment?" a deep gruff voice demanded.  
It took John a moment, but then he recognized the words as the first ones spoken to him by Aeryn. Peacekeepers everywhere it seemed kept to the same boring script. Apparently he didn't answer fast enough since a sharp blow knocked the wind out of him. That too was a familiar event and obviously part of the regimen. John sagged to his knees, trying to regain his wind and at the same time force his eyes to focus through the pain.  
"Name, rank, and regiment?" the voice demanded again.  
John was yanked back to his feet. Two different people were holding onto him by his arms while another interrogated him. The white light in his eyes was beginning to fade and he was just starting to be able to make out dark shadows in front of him. He was punched in the ear. A flush of sharp pain erupted in his head. As the painful ringing subsided, he felt something lukewarm trickle down the side of his face, then run down his shirt.  
"Name...?"  
"Crichton!" he shouted out, sick of hearing that voice. "John Crichton, Commander, IASA."  
"That's ridiculous," a woman's voice said from his left. He figured she was one of the one's holding him up. "Commander? And what kind of name and regiment is that?"  
"Let's try the other one," another male voice to his right suggested. "This one's brain must have been damaged."  
John wasn't so much dropped as he was tossed to the floor. His vision was only slightly blurred. He could make out Zhaan and Rygel in a cell opposite to his. They were shackled as he was, and were lying on their sides on the floor, watching with frightened fascination. Two tall Peacekeepers, one man, one woman, paced in the hallway, their pulse rifles held ready against anything that the prisoners might attempt. D'Argo was likewise shackled but was in a different cell, next to Zhaan and Rygel's. From the look of him, D'Argo must have received some of the same rough treatment as they were giving John and Aeryn. Chiana was nowhere to be seen.   
"Pick her up," the same gruff voice that had questioned him ordered.  
Rolling on his side, he could see Aeryn, bound as he was, also in his cell. Three Peacekeepers were now working on her. The woman was pulling Aeryn's hair back, while one of the men held her up.  
"Leave her alone, you sons-of-bitches!" John yelled, managing to get to his feet.  
The woman Peacekeeper stopped working on Aeryn long enough to kick John's feet out from under him. John rolled and, much to her surprise, did the same for her, tripping her feet out from under her. When one of the men moved to jump on John, he got both of John's feet in his face for the effort.  
Several rifles and pistols where directed at Crichton.  
"Stop!" the Peacekeeper whose face John had smashed ordered. "The Captain says no killing." Then he added, "yet."  
The Peacekeeper got up. He gave Crichton a swift kick to the chest, then turned back to Aeryn.  
"Name, rank, and regiment?"  
Groggily, Aeryn sat up.  
"Name - Sun, Aeryn. Rank - officer, lieutenant. Regiment - Pleisars."  
There was a moment of silence where no one moved.  
"Finally, the interrogator asked, "What did you say?"

"Where are you taking her?" Crichton demanded of the two Peacekeepers They were marauder ranks. Aeryn could see in their eyes that they wanted to hurt John. They wanted it very much. His defiance was goading them. But some directive was keeping them restrained. All it would take would be a convenient excuse though, and they could discard that restraint like a collar they had slipped. Aeryn did not want any more punishment to be unleashed upon John. Things were bad enough.  
"I'll be all right, John," Aeryn told him, more to diffuse his anxiety on her account than as any statement of truth. "These are my people, remember?"  
"That's what scares me," was all he said.  
Her legs had been freed so she could walk, but her arms remained bound. D'Argo nodded to her as she passed his cell. Zhaan as well, giving Aeryn a peaceful smile that tried to offer her some hope. Rygel merely frowned, his ears drooping. She felt their eyes, his eyes staring at her back. They thought she was coming back. She wasn't quite so sure.  
Somewhere in the back of her mind, Aeryn wondered what had become of Chiana. The Nebari had disappeared well before they had been boarded. Aeryn couldn't inquire of her, since that would reveal her existance to the Peacekeepers. Since there had been no record of the Nebari onboard, Chiana could conveniently disappear.  
Judging by their route, Aeryn knew that they were on the way to Command well before they arrived. As she was escorted in, Aeryn saw Pilot's face in the comm shell. He saw her as well, but prudently said nothing. There were two Peacekeepers already in Command, a man and woman. Both were older. The man had very grey hair, cut short, and a nondescript craggy face. He wore a uniform, but it was plain, lacking all rank or unit identifications. The woman was a ship's Captain. Though her hair was black and only accented by large grey streaks, her face seemed older than the man's. A hard life of combat and care had left many marks, many deep lines on that face. Scar tissue had nearly closed one eye. But the damage still did not mar an underlying handsomeness, if not downright beauty. There was something very familiar in the woman's face, though Aeryn was sure they had never met.  
"Remove her restraints and then leave," the Captain commanded the two escorts. They quickly did as they were told.  
Aeryn saluted. Neither of the others returned her salute, so, she let it drop.  
The man's expression was blank, almost lifeless, as if he were a cheap android. Only his eyes showed any life. But they were uncaring, sharp, and eager. The way they focused on her, it was as if they wanted to cut her apart to get at her heart, to reveal whatever bloody truth lay inside. Though unranked, he was the more dangerous of the two, Aeryn decided. The body language of the woman seemed to bear this out. She deferred to this man, giving him a wide berth as she slowly paced about the room. But otherwise he was a total mystery.  
The woman captain continued to stare at Aeryn while she paced. At first, it had been with a keen curiosity. But over the next few microns, it shifted more and more to what Aeryn felt to be contempt, at least judging by the way her mouth turned while her eyes narrowed. It was this captain who began the interview. She quoted from Aeryn's service record, as displayed on a small portable console. Though these Peacekeepers were obviously not part of Crais' command, they carried records of her service nonetheless.  
"Officer Aeryn Sun," The Captain paused at this and looked back at Aeryn. Aeryn saw a strange look in her eyes but did not know what to make of it. The woman continued to recite. "Lieutenant, prowler pilot, Pleisar Regiment, currently assigned to command carrier duty - specifically a ship commanded by Bialar Crais, approved for transfer to marauders. It seems you've had a fairly distinguished service, Lieutenant - up to now at least. Tell me, what are you doing all the way out here, on a leviathan without a control collar, and with prisoners who it seems are free to wander anywhere but the cells that were built to hold them?"  
"I was captured," Aeryn confessed. I attempted to disable this ship during an escape and was caught in the wake of the leviathan's starburst. Knocked unconscious while in hyperspace, I woke to find myself a prisoner."  
"And you've been a prisoner, ever since?" the Captain asked.  
"I have been unable to return to my unit," Aeryn replied.  
"Did you make any attempt to escape?"  
"Yes," Aeryn answered.  
"Where is Captain Crais and his ship?"  
"I do not know."  
"How do we contact him?"  
"I do not know."  
"Are you protecting Captain Crais?"  
Aeryn shook her head. "No," she said, surprised by the question and perhaps showing a little of this surprise on her face.  
"Why did the prisoners from this ship not kill you after you were captured?"  
"They felt that I had specialized knowledge that might help them to escape. So they kept me alive."  
"Did you provide them with any such knowledge."  
Aeryn paused, not answering the question.  
The Captain quickly walked up to her, laying a strong backhand across Aeryn's face.  
"Answer the question!" she barked. She wiped Aeryn's blood off her hand by dragging it over Aeryn's sleeve.  
But Aeryn turned her head back and said nothing.  
"If you don't think I'll use a mind probe on you because you are Sebacean, Lieutenant," the Captain hissed into Aeryn's ear, "think again. Because I will gladly do whatever it takes to find out the truth."  
The man continued to observe Aeryn but said nothing. At the point where she was slapped, he turned around, his back to them both. Clearing his throat, he looked out the viewport, as if bored with the furtive dance of words between the two women. In the distance, the dark shape of a Peacekeeper ship could seen as a shadow, an outline, a drifting nightmare that blocked the stars. As if this turning away were a signal, the Captain left Aeryn and walked over to the man. He turned only slightly and said something to the Captain in a voice so low that Aeryn could make out none of what was said. The Captain, in turn, spoke something into the microphone on her collar. Then she returned to Aeryn.  
"Who is the Sebacean male who was found with you? He doesn't appear on the manifest for this ship."  
Again, Aeryn noted that these Peacekeepers knew much more about Moya than what she would have expected from the crew of a mere patrol ship. Still, she didn't think that one rogue leviathan could justify so much attention. There was some other reason for their presence in the Territories, and their questions about Crais probably had much to do with it.  
"He's not a prisoner. And he's not a Sebacean. He is from a distant planet that is beyond our space. He arrived here caught in something called a wormhole." When Aeryn said wormhole, the silent man turned around to look at her again. He stepped forward, as if those drilling eyes of his might find deeper substance by glaring more closely.  
"Not Sebacean then?" the Captain asked. She was surprised.  
"He calls himself a human."  
"Human? Just another piece of alien dren," the Captain abruptly decided "What does he know about Crais?"  
Aeryn paused again. She wasn't trying for subterfuge. But how could she answer the question without dooming John? Crais' death sentence for John would be as good as an order for execution as far as any other Peacekeeper was concerned. After all, what did Peacekeepers care for an alien's life?  
The Captain raised her hand. Aeryn thought the woman was going to strike her again, but instead she plucked the microphone from her collar.  
"Proceed," the woman said into the microphone, which she then brought up near to Aeryn's ear..  
"Aeryn?" It was John's voice. "Aeryn, are you O.K.?"  
But he was cut off by a choking sound. Aeryn then heard screaming, and screaming, and more screaming coming over the mike.  
"He knows nothing!" Aeryn protested.  
The woman brought the mike back to her lips, her eyes watching Aeryn, a sneer drawn by the lines of her mouth.  
"Stop." was all she said, and the screaming ended.  
"You care for this alien," she accused Aeryn. "Are you lovers?" But she didn't wait for an answer, merely adding, "You have fallen far, Sebacean"  
The Captain put her mike back on her collar and walked away from Aeryn.  
"We will try this again. This time, for every pause, every answer that does not satisfy me, one of your human's fingers will be ripped from his hand. Then we'll start working on his face - and other extremities. You know the routine, don't you, Lieutenant?"  
Aeryn nodded.  
"Good. We'll start back at my last question. Did you aid the prisoners?"  
Aeryn started to answer, but she was interrupted by a loud voice. It came blaring over Moya's main speaker cells.  
"Captain, Lieutenant Tor, here." It was a man's voice, calm, but of a forced sort of calm like someone under pressure - or afraid and unwilling to admit it.  
"Go ahead, Lieutenant," the Captain told him.  
"We have a ship entering outer scanner range. It's moving in fast."  
"What kind of ship?" she asked. "Is it Crais' ship?" She sounded almost hopeful.  
"Captain! It's a Vl'gani destroyer!"  
"Vl'gani?"  
"Vl'gani ships never travel alone," the mysterious man warned. His pronouncement had finally given Aeryn a voice - one, like the others, controlled but concerned. "They always attack in packs!" he warned.  
The Captain spoke back into her mike. "Tor, go to battle stations!"  
"Captain, we're now tracking multiple ships heading right for the leviathan. I'm sending all marauders over to you."  
"Never mind about us, Tor. You just take care of my ship. Use the marauders and prowlers to form a defensive screen," the Captain ordered. "We'll get along with what we have."  
She whispered something into her collar mike and Aeryn's two escorts reappeared.  
"Take her back to her cell," the Captain ordered, nodding at Aeryn. "Then tell your troops to prepare to repel boarders."

"Crichton! Crichton!" D'Argo hissed.  
John rolled over on his side, and then discovered that this was a bad idea. He felt his ribs. One of them was certainly cracked. His hands felt crushed.  
"I'm here," he mumbled through his swollen face. "What's going on?"  
"The Peacekeepers have all left," Zhaan told him from her cell. "Rygel's looking for a way out of here. We tried contacting Pilot, but he isn't answering. - How are you doing, John?"  
"I've had better days, Zhaan," John grunted.  
"This isn't my cell," Rygel's voice protested from somewhere behind Zhaan. "It took me five cycles to find an escape hole last time."  
"We don't have five cycles!" D'Argo yelled, pounding his fist on the door in frustration.  
"Quiet!" Zhaan urged them, hearing footfalls from down the corridor.  
Two Peacekeepers appeared on either side of Aeryn. Her shackles had been removed. The door to Crichton's cell opened by splitting in two, the two halves rising up like wings. They threw Aeryn inside, and then quickly departed.  
Aeryn dropped to her knees, examining John's wounds. "Are you all right?"  
"Yeah, Aeryn, I'm just peachy," he said sarcastically. "How about you? Make any friends?"  
"I don't think so," she admitted. She tore a bit of her shirt and used it to try and clean up John's face.  
"Aeryn? What's going on?" Zhaan asked. "All of our guards ran off some time ago."  
"They're being attacked," she said. "They mentioned something called Vl'gani. There are several of their ships heading this way and they intend to board us."  
"Did you say, Vl'gani?" D'Argo asked. There was a strange timbre to his voice. If they hadn't known better, the others might have called it fear.  
"D'Argo, do you know this word?" Zhaan asked.  
But D'Argo shook his head. "Only legends. My people claim that they are space demons who feed on the flesh of other sentients. They are said to be merciless, knowing neither fear nor reason. Luxan mothers use the word to frighten children who misbehave. But certainly such things never existed."  
"Oh, that's just great," John said, shaking his head while Aeryn tried to attend to it. "The Luxan's have a boogie man and we get to meet him." He couldn't imagine what kind of alien would inspire fear in a race of giant warriors. Getting annoyed with Aeryn's ministrations, he took the cloth from her and attended to the cut himself.  
"They're more than legend," Rygel added, having given up for the moment on finding an escape. Everyone turned to him as he pressed his face between the grating. "In the time of my ancient ancestor, Orax XXI, some of our ships encountered something well beyond the frontier. They were traders exploring deep deep space, where no Hynerian had ever been before. Only one ship returned with one survivor. He was mad from fear, but through his babbling, it was learned that all the ships had been destroyed, unspeakable things having been done to the crews. The survivor kept repeating one word over and over again - Vl'gani. Orax assembled the greatest fleet in the Empire's history; which departed for the same region of space where the merchants had encountered the aliens. They were never seen again. Then, perhaps sixty cycles later, frontier outposts were attacked. Whole planets were swallowed up in darkness. Nothing could stop the annihilation. Then it just ended - for no reason. All that was left was a mystery and dead planets full of empty cities and fields of bloody bones. Like the Luxans, my people forgot about this horror as the millennia passed. The word became a legend. But we rulers were raised with the truth. For we were told, someday the darkness might return."  
Rygel's ears sagged.  
John shook his head. He looked to see Aeryn's reaction. Her face was blank. She was just staring ahead.  
"Aeryn? What is it?" he asked her.  
"Some... things have come onboard."  
Chiana dropped down from one of the overhead ducts.  
"Aaaaahhhhh! A Vl'gani!" Rygel screamed upon seeing her. Fortunately, Zhaan managed to clamp his mouth shut, quieting him.  
"Chiana, where have you been?" Zhaan asked her.  
"Hiding," was the short reply. She nodded up to indicate the vent ducts. "But something very smelly and very quick came in after me, so I decided to leave."  
"The first sign of trouble and you run for the shadows," D'Argo sneered.  
Chiana sneered back, dancing up to D'Argo's cell.  
"Well, who's locked up and who's free then, hmm?"  
"Nevermind, you two," John interjected. "Chiana, can you get us out of here?"  
"The Peacekeepers have the control keys," Zhaan added.  
"Keys?" Chiana chuckled. She plucked a strange looking tool out of her belt and it was only a few microns before Zhaan and Rygel were free. Next, it was Aeryn and John. Last, she freed D'Argo.  
"So, what do we do now?" Zhaan asked.  
They didn't have time to debate as five Peacekeepers came running down the corridor, dragging another who was bleeding and badly wounded. One of them fired at something behind her. There was a gravelly sounding roar that nothing humanoid could possibly make. They were so focused on whatever was chasing them that they didn't notice that the prisoners were free, not until Zhaan grabbed the first one around his neck, disarming him. Zhaan slid his pulse rifle, which skidded along the floor to D'Argo. D'Argo picked it up, leveling it the rest of the Peacekeepers.  
"The prisoners!" one of the Sebaceans yelled, alerting the rest. The Peacekeepers split into two groups, one aiming behind them, the other aiming at Moya's crew.  
"Put the gun down!" one of them barked at D'Argo.  
"You put yours down," D'Argo growled back.  
"If you don't put it down, you'll die" the Peacekeeper vowed.  
"And so will you," D'Argo told her.  
"Fine," she said.  
"Fine," D'Argo agreed.  
"Wait! Wait! Wait!" John yelled, jumping between the two, feeling stupid like a man who is about to get shot twice might feel. "Hold on now! I think we all need to look at the bigger picture here. Can you two just not fire or kill anyone yet?"  
No one put their rifles down but no one fired either.  
"Lieutenant!" one of them addressed the dying officer. The officer was the same man who had interrogated Moya's crew earlier. "I just heard over the comm - the Captain and Lord Vykir have been cut off. They're surrounded. They're holding up in the chamber housing this ship's pilot. The Captain has given the order to abandon ship. She wants us to destroy the leviathan from space."  
"We won't abandon the Captain," the dying officer said. "D'ya hear me?" he addressed his Peacekeepers  
The Peacekeepers nodded.  
"We can help you," John told them, caring more for Pilot and Moya than he did for any Peacekeepers "This is our ship. We know it. You don't. We know other ways to get to Pilot's chamber and rescue your people." He gave them a quick moment to think about this. "How about a truce?" he offered.  
No one said anything. The Peacekeepers looked to their leader.  
"All right," the man said, having difficulty speaking. He was in pain. "We have a truce - as long as you get my people to the Captain."  
Only as he said this, did the other Peacekeeper's lower their weapons. The woman facing D'Argo and D'Argo himself were the last to do so.  
"We'll need weapons," Aeryn said. "There's an arms locker at the end of this corridor."  
The Peacekeeper officer nodded. "Arm them." He pointed at the woman who had been facing D'Argo.  
"Raz, you lead now. Take this unit and rescue the Captain and the Lord, d'ya hear?"  
She nodded. Her face was stoic but her eyes hinted at her reluctance to leave him.  
"I'll hold them off here," he told her.  
Raz nodded that she understood. She shouldered her rifle and gave the order to move forward.  
Aeryn had watched the whole scene, fascinated. She seemed drawn to it. When the unit moved out, she moved forward to the point, in sync with the other Peacekeepers as if she were one of them. Watching her stalk ahead, her body's language like that of a predator, John truly felt he did not know her. By the time they reached the weapons' locker, they heard firing well behind them. The firing continued for some time and then it stopped, followed by a terrible screaming that ended just as abruptly. John looked at the Peacekeepers, at Aeryn. None of them showed any emotion. When everyone was armed, Raz gave the order to move out, Aeryn leading the way.

The Captain fired at another. She kept firing for some time before the Vl'gani warrior dropped, it's chitinous appendages continuing to burn from the chakan oil that had stuck to its body. Hefting the pulse rifle, the Captain felt how light it was.  
"My rifle is almost empty," she told Vykir. "You, my Lord?"  
Vykir nodded. "The same."  
Vykir regarded the Vl'gani dead in front of him. Considering how much shooting had gone on, there were precious few of them. Three Peacekeepers were dead, torn to pieces while trying to protect the Lord and Captain. She and Vykir were all that remained. Pilot, suffering a burn from a Vl'gani blaster, continued to monitor systems on his panels, oblivious to his own discomfort and intent on ignoring the Peacekeepers taking shelter behind him.  
"These Vl'gani are tough bastards," Vykir noted.  
The Captain nodded in agreement. "It's better to kill them in space. Get them in close combat, and they have the advantage. We learned on Sor that you practically have to blast them into pieces to stop them - and then you have to worry about the pieces."  
Forewarned, Vykir kicked at a severed Vl'gani claw inching towards him, sending it over the edge of the walkway.  
"But why are they here?" Vykir asked. "Given the pasting you handed them at Sor, I would think that more Peacekeepers would be the last thing they would want to see."  
"Maybe they are as curious about us as we are about them," the Captain suggested. "The Sorthan system was the first time we encountered each other. If they saw one Peacekeeper ship heading out into the Uncharted Territories alone, it might have presented them with a tempting opportunity - for captives and technology to study."  
Vykir turned to regard Pilot.  
"What about this Pilot?" Vykir asked her. "Maybe it can help us."  
The Captain looked up at Pilot. She shook her head in disagreement. "From what little I know, leviathan pilots have only a rudimentary intelligence. Without a higher being like a Peacekeeper to guide them, they can do more harm than good."  
Pilot turned to listen to this appraisal of his ability, but silently went back to work without comment.  
Vykir shot at something moving in the entrance of the chamber. The something shot back, forcing them to all duck behind Pilot's console. Three Vl'gani lurched through the opening. They were tripeds, but their arms could sometimes serve for legs and they could make great speed running on all seven appendages. In combat mode, their large armored bodies ran on three stout legs, each with three broad and plated toes that gave the creature support. Two fragile but dexterous tentacle-like arms extended from their mid torso to operate their blasters. Two naked hinged claws, that were each more like jaws of a great beast, spread out from either side like huge wings that snapped forward, ready to rend and tear. In the creature's head, enormous fanged mandibles yawned eagerly, while a vertical mouth filled with rows of triangular teeth shredded anything brought up to it. Rather than eyes, the creature had multiple rows of iridescent bands that peaked out from time to time from beneath overlapping plates on the top of its head and on its chest, above the tentacles. Though they were vulnerable when exposed, the Vl'gani had "eyes" to spare and damaging them only served to make them more aggressive. Also, these bands were strangely hypnotic; gazing at them too long, one had the compulsion to relax and give up any idea of fighting. Having been warned by the Captain, Vykir made sure to look away whenever they were exposed. The only advantage that the Captain and Vykir had was that the Vl'gani were so large, only one could approach at a time from any one of the four walkways. The Captain and Vykir's combined fire dropped the first one over the edge of one of the walkways. The other two took hits and retreated, while laying down a suppressing fire that made the two Peacekeepers once again duck for cover.  
Pilot took another hit, which badly damaged another arm, rendering it useless. Other than sucking in air from the pain, he made no other sound, stoically working his controls.  
"Did you ever have children?" Vykir asked her, as they sat in the shelter of the ship's control console.  
"My Lord?" She had to think about the question. It's timing seemed so out of place. But she knew why he was asking.  
"I think the question is simple enough, Captain," Vykir maintained, working to clear a jam in his rifle.  
"Yes."  
"Yes, the question is simple, or yes you've had children?"  
"Yes," she said, "I've had children." The Captain's replies were curt. She offered him no elaboration.  
But Vykir wouldn't let it rest. "Were any of them named, Aeryn?"  
"Why are you asking me this now, my Lord?"  
"I don't know that I will have another opportunity, Captain, since you've seen fit to release your people to escape. As we're most likely going to die here, I thought you might help me satisfy a point of curiosity."  
"There are other Peacekeepers named Aeryn," she maintained.  
"But I don't recall finding many named Sun on the duty rolls."  
The Captain bit her lip. Vykir wasn't going to let go of this.  
"Yes, I did have a daughter named, Aeryn. I was pregnant with twins at the time. Both were placed into artificial wombs. I saw them at birth, gave them their names, and I presume they were sent off to colony wards. I never saw them again. Is that what you wanted to know, my Lord?"  
Vykir let the matter go, but he was certain that she was hiding something. However, this hardly seemed significant just at that moment. He could hear movement beyond. The Captain and Vykir jumped up, ready to go down fighting. The Vl'gani didn't disappoint them. They charged from all four directions. Sun and Vykir emptied their rifles, dropping a pair of the alien warriors before their rifles emptied. Nearly defenseless, they started to club the warriors as the Vl'gani reached for them. As if sensing that they were helplessness, the Vl'gani were using their claws, trying to disarm them. They wanted prisoners. Vykir wouldn't allow that. He produced a pistol, aiming it at the Captain's head.

"We don't have time!"  
Aeryn threw her line and scaled down it even as it dropped. She landed hard just in front of Pilot's console. A huge Vl'gani snapped a claw at her back but staggered backwards as it was hit by several rounds of pistol fire. Aeryn looked and saw that the unranked Peacekeeper had just saved her life. She turned and fired at the Vl'gani, finishing it off. D'Argo, John, and three other Peacekeepers followed while Zhaan, one of the Peacekeepers, and Chiana laid down a suppressing fire from above, while trying not to hit their own people. Rygel hid behind Zhaan.  
Looking down, Zhaan saw the two Peacekeepers they had come to save. She looked very closely at Vykir again and then shook her head.  
"How can it be him?" she asked, studying Vykir for a micron, as if unwilling to believe her eyes.  
She aimed her rifle at Vykir's head. At the last moment, she turned it aside and the bolt shot through the torso of a charging Vl'gani instead. A tear made its way down her cheek while she continued to fire at the Vl'gani until it dropped.  
Pilot, having monitored their progress and having been appraised of the plan by microphone, did his part by closing the nearest bulkhead doors. Then he opened the hatchway, and exhaust vents, releasing Moya's atmosphere everywhere but in his own chamber and the nearby corridors. Deep cold and vacuum rushed through Moya. As tough as they were, the Vl'gani had their limits and, those that weren't blown out into space, succumbed to the vacuum - but not quickly. They proved to be remarkably hardy. All that was left now was to deal with those close at hand.  
John dropped to his feet, and got up, only to see something he could only describe as a walking nightmare staring at him with rows of banded light, which Crichton guessed were its eyes. Its hide was plated and horny, covered in bristly hairs and spikes while the overlapping plates made it seem more like some demonic dragon out of mythology. As John painfully tried to work the rifle with his swollen fingers, the only things he could think of was that he was going to die and that he'd gladly trade Farscape 1 right then and there for a flamethrower. John looked up into the creature's face. For a moment, the alien and human just stood regarding one another. John stared at the multiple bands of scintillating mirrors that served the creature for eyes. Seeing the patterns in the eyes cascade into a series of rainbow hues, John lost all interest in the pincer like mandibles reaching for his face, focused in the wonder of colour and pattern. He dropped his arms and his rifle slipped from his fingers, landing useless on the floor. A bit of wet liquid began to drip from the end of the creature's fangs as they closed in on Crichton's throat.  
It's head blew into pieces, raining bits of burning thick chitinous material and ignited chakan oil everywhere. John blinked and glimpsed Aeryn turning away to target yet another Vl'gani. She walked forward, ignoring danger, firing with every step. Blaster rounds whizzed past her, leaving her unscathed while her every shot withered the alien ranks in front of her. The moment having passed, John picked up his own rifle, intending to join the fight. But the Vl'gani in front of him was anything but dead, even though it lacked a head. As he walked past a section, brushing it's bristly body with his leg, the alien reached out and clamped John in a scissors grip, it's claws tearing at his arm and ankle. He felt as if he were going to be torn apart. D'Argo swung his qualta, severing the claws from their body. John was able to pull them off him. But they were sharp and even touching them caused him to cut his hands.  
"Thanks," he gasped, rubbing his ankle, but D'Argo was already gone, using his blade to fire at another alien.  
Everywhere it was chaos. One of the Peacekeepers got too close. A blaster removed her midsection while Vl'gani claws tore the rest of her in half, then shredding the rest into even smaller pieces. But in the cramped quarters, it was impossible for the Vl'gani to bring their numbers to bear; whereas the Peacekeepers and Moya's crew could line up and concentrate their fire to great effect. And it was certainly hard for them to miss. Also, the Peacekeeper weapons could fire rapidly, while though the aliens seemed to be able to move very fast, their weapons took a long time to recharge.  
The Peacekeeper firing alongside Chiana took a hit in the leg and lost footing. Chiana tried to grab him but he fell to his death, his body folding over Pilot's console. Pilot regarded the dead Peacekeeper sadly and gently removed the body, while keeping about his work. The Vl'gani tried to retreat, but several of their own casualties were blocking the way. Many fell to their deaths by plummeting over the edge of the walkways. Those that didn't were reduced to animate pieces that, though still dangerous, could only harm the careless.  
The battle was hardly over when Moya shuddered violently. There was a booming sound, followed by another and another which tossed the ship about, making it hard for anyone to stand their ground. Both Aeryn and D'Argo were nearly tossed over the walkway onto the heaps of dead Vl'gani below.  
"The Peacekeeper ships are firing on Moya," Pilot announced, his voice concerned but calm.  
The Peacekeeper captain rushed to Pilot's console and opened a communications link.  
"This is Captain Sun ordering all Peacekeeper ships to cease fire. Repeat, this is Captain Aeryn Sun. You will cease fire - now! Marauder crews return to the leviathan."  
"Yes, Captain Sun," a voice responded over the speaker. "It's good to hear your voice."  
The firing suddenly ceased.  
The Captain looked up to see Aeryn Sun staring at her, a perplexed look on her face.  
Vykir stepped forward, brushing his uniform.  
"Yes, Lieutenant, you heard correctly," he said, as if reading the question in her mind. "Aeryn Sun, meet Captain Aeryn Sun - your mother."

Aeryn walked with her escort through the corridors of the scout carrier, _Reyahko_. It was strange to be in the tight familiarity of a Peacekeeper ship once more. Mostly it was the smell of the place that seemed like home to her. If she shut her eyes, hearing the Sebacean voices going about their duty, she could imagine for a moment that Moya had been a dream and those aboard her phantoms. She indulged in this imagination, pretending for a micron that this was her ship - that she was home.  
Turning to one of her escorts, Sergeant Raz, she asked, "Could we just wait here for a moment?" She wanted to prolong the lie as much as possible.  
Guessing Aeryn's fate, Raz looked at the other escort. Both had been with Aeryn when they had fought the Vl'gani. Ever since then, they had treated Aeryn with respect.  
The other guard nodded and Raz told Aeryn, "We have some time. Let us know when you're ready, Officer Sun."  
Hearing herself called officer, Aeryn turned to look at them. Raz and the other escort stood to attention. Seeing the marauder troopers salute, other Peacekeepers, technicians mostly, saluted Aeryn as they passed, oblivious to Aeryn's true status.  
Aeryn smiled, grateful for the fiction. She gave her guards a quick nod, a silent thanks, and closed her eyes once more. She stood there for some time, stretching out the moment. When she was ready, she nodded and walked on, ready to meet her fate. Once more, she was only a condemned traitor, en route to judgment and probable execution But for a few microns, she had been transformed to Officer Aeryn Sun, Peacekeeper.  
"Get _that_ off my bridge," Captain Sun ordered, seeing Aeryn step out of the lift.  
Her escorts quickly ushered Aeryn through the Command area, heading toward the Captain's office, where Lord Vykir was waiting. Aeryn glanced at the woman who shared her name. The Captain sat silent, staring straight ahead, refusing to meet Aeryn's eyes.  
Aeryn was brought to a closed door. Her fate waited beyond. Before she could step through, Raz pulled her back.  
"Officer Sun, I just wanted to say that, well, what you did before - I've never seen anyone fight like that. You were incredible. It was an honor to fight alongside you."  
Aeryn smiled. Coming from a battle hardened marauder rank, it was quite a compliment. Aeryn dared to ask her a favor.  
"When the time comes..."  
Raz had anticipated the question. "I would be honored, Officer Sun. I promise that you won't suffer. You'll die as a Peacekeeper should."  
"Thank you," Aeryn told her, genuinely grateful.  
Stepping forward, the doorway opened and Aeryn walked through.  
"Sit down, Lieutenant," Lord Turan Vykir commanded.  
"I prefer to stand," Aeryn said, somewhat defiant and willing to meet her fate on her own terms.  
Vykir leaned back in his chair, saying nothing but studying Aeryn.  
"Your mother said much the same thing to me once."  
"Excuse me, my Lord," Aeryn corrected him. "But you don't know that Captain Sun is my mother. The genetic tests have not been finished."  
"This is true," Vykir admitted.  
He folded his hands.  
"Do you know why I've sent for you?"  
Aeryn nodded.  
"No you don't," he corrected her. "I know what you're thinking though. - But I'm actually reinstating you as an officer of rank. You're being reassigned to a marauder crew."  
Aeryn blinked and scowled. Having worked hard to accept her fate, even good news seemed incongruous to the moment.  
"Why?" was all she asked.  
"Because I wish it. For someone of your rank, that is explanation enough. And don't ever presume to question me again, Lieutenant," he warned her.  
Vykir turned to a screen he'd been reading. He waved at it with his hand.  
"Your report - all of it. I've skimmed the important parts. I'm sealing it as classified. And you're not to discuss what is said here with anyone."  
Still unsure of what was really being said or asked, Aeryn simply nodded agreement.  
"Your Captain Crais has ignored all orders to return to base - which is why I am here. Any pronouncements Crais might have made regarding your suitability as a Peacekeeper are hardly going to carry much weight going forward. I've seen you in action, Lieutenant. I won't mention your saving my life. Gratitude is a sentiment that is only fitting for lesser races. But executing you would be a criminal waste of material."  
Again, Aeryn only nodded.  
"Yes, my Lord." She paused for what seemed an appropriate time before asking the next question, one whose answer meant very much to her. "What about the rest of us - from Moya?," she asked, daring to associate herself with the others openly in front of Vykir. "John Crichton - for example?" Aeryn pursed her lips. Her mentioning John must have seemed very obvious, she thought, cursing herself for her inability to seem detached.  
Vykir was watching Aeryn. He thought she was trying too hard to be casual in asking about the human.  
"Well, according to your report, the death of Crais' brother was an accident. Humans are very much like us. There's every possibility that they're a lost genetic offshoot of our own people. Perhaps they should have at least some of the rights of a Sebacean. I don't see why we have to hold this man accountable - for now anyway. If you vouch for him, you can go back to the leviathan and have him released. I'll entrust him to your care."  
Aeryn managed to hold back the tears. If she showed emotion, others like Vykir would judge her weak. She surprised herself on just how much fear she had contained on John's behalf.  
"And the others?" she asked.  
Vykir seemed surprised by her asking. His eyes opened wider and he took a longer look at Aeryn.  
"Have I misjudged you?" he asked Aeryn. "Don't waste your concerns on lesser races - convicted prisoners. You are a Sebacean It's time you remember that."  
But Aeryn couldn't let it rest, regardless of what it might cost her.  
"My Lord, the others fought as well. They saved your life. Because of this, I ask that they be shown clemency."  
Vykir slammed his hand on the table.  
"Enough! The prisoners will be sent on to the prison planet they were intended for. As for the Nebari, she'll be sent to the Science Division to study. They'll be very curious to examine an alien race who is capable of things you've stated in your report. Right now, she's a genetic sample - nothing more. Do you understand this?"  
Aeryn bowed her head.  
"I hope for your sake that you do, Aeryn Sun. You've come back from the brink. Don't throw your life away now for whose who aren't worthy. You have your human. Content yourself with that."  
Vykir turned the console back around.  
"That will be all, Officer Sun," Vykir stated. "You've taxed my patience long enough. Report to Sergeant Raz. She'll see that you're outfitted. I'm having the Captain put you in temporary command of Raz's unit. Do well, and it'll be yours permanently."  
Aeryn stood and saluted. Having walked into the room a condemned and disgraced traitor, she walked out transformed into a Peacekeeper officer once more, with everything she had hoped for. She had even managed to save John. She wondered why she felt so miserable. On the way out, she encountered Captain Sun, who was coming to see Vykir. It was strange for Aeryn to think that this woman might possibly be her mother. Captain Sun was not pleased to see Aeryn however. Once again, she ignored Aeryn's salute.  
"Get off my bridge, Lieutenant," was all she said. "Stay with your marauder crew. I don't want to see you up here again."  
Apparently, the Captain had been appraised of Aeryn's reprieve before Aeryn had. Aeryn stood there, unintentionally staring at this woman, wondering why she hated her so much. Captain Sun did not wait for any replies from Aeryn, instead charging into the office that Lord Vykir had usurped. He seemed to be expecting her.  
"I suppose it will be superfluous to offer you a chance to sit," was all he said.  
"Why?" Captain Aeryn Sun demanded - purposely omitting the customary 'my Lord.'  
"I truly do think that suicidal rudeness and disregard of rank must be genetic." Vykir said. He closed Lieutenant Sun's report and then addressed the Captain. "You lied to me. I checked your service record very carefully. Do you want to know what I discovered, Captain?"  
Aeryn didn't reply. She stood at ease, wanting to hear what Vykir was going to say before replying. If he was proposing to hang her, there was no reason she should help.  
"You've had six children - most of them by different fathers. In the last instance you had twins. And you left all your children to be placed with colony wards. These are all very common choices among career officers. But, you omitted some very interesting details. And details are everything, don't you agree?"  
Vykir called up some new data and turned it towards Aeryn.  
"One of your twins was normal in its development and was placed into an artificial womb at three months - end of story. The other though, was so deficient in size that she could not justify an artificial womb. You chose to keep her inside you almost to point of physical birth."  
"I was on medical leave, recovering form battle injuries," Aeryn explained. "It seemed a shame to waste genetic material - especially after all the losses in the Luxan Wars. I felt that with time, and with my body's full resources, she would develop further and could be transplanted later. Time was something I had, so I chose to gestate her inside me until she could be transferred to a womb. She improved and survived," Aeryn was annoyed at having to explain herself.  
"She did more than that," Vykir stated. "And so did you. You broke regulations by using your influence to ensure that she was placed in an officers' ward - rather than letting the Officers-in-Training assign her based on genetic predisposition. It seems you had some special fondness for this one, Captain. Was it because you carried her longer - or because she was frailer than the others? Was this why you gave her your own name?"  
"If you wish to place charges, my Lord, I can call Lieutenant Tor in to witness your statement. However, to answer your question, frailty has never been something to engender my sympathies. I aided a struggling life - for the good of our people."  
Vykir waved his hand. "Captain, I have no intention of placing charges. I can understand what you did probably more than you do - just as I understand your daughter's reasons for making the choices that she had to. We don't live in a black and white universe, Captain - much as our culture would have it so. Do you suppose that I would have made other choices in your place? And what if you, at that young age, had been faced with her choices? My own daughter was more precious to me than any battle honors I ever won. Yes Captain, I am one of those foolish decadents who actually admits affection for his offspring. I chose not to surrender my children to a colony ward but to raise them myself. My wife was killed in a Luxan raid along with two of our children. My eldest son died in space, in service, and with honor. So you will understand that I did not want my last child to become a marauder - but it was her choice. When she was killed on her first mission, I put it behind me. Loosing my last surviving child, as it turned out, was the ultimate honor. It made me an ideal icon for the Council. But don't think for a moment that I wouldn't trade all of it to have her back again. You may think me weak, Captain. But I think you're a fool. You have your daughter, back from the dead as it were. What wouldn't I give to have mine."  
"She is not my daughter," Aeryn insisted. "The results from the genetic tests will prove it."  
"And if they don't?" Vykir asked her. "If they should prove that she is your daughter after all, what will you do then with all that hatred?"  
Aeryn did not have a ready answer for him. She thought for a moment.  
"Nothing. I will do nothing - as long as she does the duty expected of her. You've pardoned her. I must accept that. But if she fails, in even the smallest degree, I will be there to ensure that she pays the full penalty. She will see no favor from me. No misdeed will ever reflect upon the name I've built for myself."  
"Do you hear what you are saying, Captain? Because she bears your name, you'll punish her for it? You treat her with less consideration than any other member of your crew. You're already ashamed of the favoritism you showed her in allowing her to live. You feel that you were weak, sentimental in your youth, and it embarrasses you now. Captain, this isn't about Lieutenant Sun, is it? It's about you. It's always been about you. You don't have children, Aeryn. You have genetic extensions of your own ego."  
Aeryn was nearly shaking with rage. Were Vykir anyone else but a member of the Council, she would have probably killed him for saying such things to her.  
Instead, she changed the subject, hoping to steady her temper. "I'm having the prisoners from the leviathan transferred to the _Reyahko_. It turns out the leviathan is pregnant. Without a collar, and in its condition, it is uncontrollable, slow, and will only hamper us. So, I'm having it destroyed. Tech crews are onboard and setting charges. Since the leviathan is pregnant, I've had the explosives shielded so the leviathan's systems should not detect them for explosives until my people are off."  
Vykir nodded. "A prudent plan. But I wouldn't let your daughter know."  
"Why?" Aeryn asked, trying to ignore how the word 'daughter' seem to stab her every time she heard it.  
"Because she cares for that ship, and its pilot. Don't flatter yourself that she was saving us. She's confused. Being wrongly denied Sebacean companionship for too long, she's turned to the only wretches who would have her in her exile. Push her the wrong way now, and she'll make the wrong choices. At heart, she's a loyal officer. It would be a shame to see that potential wasted. I urge you to give her time, Captain. I think you'll find you made the right choices those many cycles ago. You will have a daughter - one you can be proud of."  
Aeryn didn't say anything. Saluting, she left Vykir alone. When she was gone, Vykir pushed a button on the desk.  
"Yes, my Lord?" a voice answered.  
"When the results from Aeryn Sun's genetic tests are done, I want you to bring them to me." He thought a moment and then he added, "And destroy the original samples, and all other copies."  
Vykir knew this attention to one lone Peacekeeper was both unseemly and improper. But one of the blessings of ultimate power was that he didn't have to care about what was unseemly. Such rules didn't apply to him, for the most part. The truth was that Aeryn, in her defiant bravery and sacrifice, reminded him of someone in particular who was long dead but never forgotten. Turan had the lost the legacy of his own children. But in saving Aeryn, he might recapture at least a sense of it. He had the power to set events in motion that would live long past himself. He wasn't seeking mercy for another as much as he was an abstract immortality for himself.  
Vykir didn't doubt for a minute that Captain Sun had asked for the report, intending to doctor it herself if the results were not to her liking. But now, she wouldn't have that chance. The great irony was that Vykir was a seeking to preserve a life that wasn't from his own; and that the mother of that life was seeking just as much to end it. If the tests proved that Aeryn Sun was not Captain Sun's daughter, in many ways, Aeryn's life would be both simpler and safer. What concerned Vykir was the ultimate probability that she was. Peacekeeper life was dangerous. The opportunities to abort Aeryn's life were many and Vykir had no doubt that the Captain would avail herself of them.  
Back at her command station, Captain Sun tried to think about her duties, but Vykir's vitriolic accusations kept at the edges of her thoughts. Images she thought she had forgotten surfaced from the well of many memories. One was of a tiny baby who she'd seen last so many cycles ago that it seemed like another lifetime. So many of life's changes and trials stood between that time and now. She wondered just who the person was that she'd been then, only a Lieutenant herself. - She remembered the baby girl had had her eyes.  
"Show me the Vl'gani ship," she told Lieutenant Orlac.  
Orlac put a view of the drifting Vl'gani destroyer on the screen.  
"What is its current status?" Aeryn asked.  
"It's still drifting away from us at a rate of approximately two metras per micron. It's sustained heavy damage. We read isolated pockets of energy, but nothing that could be used to power the engines. Weapons still read hot though."  
"Orlac, find Officer Sun and order her to... no, ask her to come to my quarters."  
Orlac looked around at the Captain. So did the others on the bridge. The Captain never invited anyone to her quarters.  
"What are you waiting for?" Sun barked.  
"Nothing, sir," Orlac quickly replied. "Right away."

Turan Vykir examined the drifting Vl'gani warship from Moya's viewscreen. Though the Vl'gani attack had caused some moderate damage to the scout carrier, the Vl'gani had suffered far worse from the _Reyahko'_s main guns and from the sweeping attacks by the prowlers and marauders. Now, badly damaged, its gutted hull drifted all but dead through space, awaiting final destruction when the Peacekeepers could spare it some attention. Space was littered by debris of all manner, much if not most of it comprised of floating dead Vl'gani corpses. The Vl'gani ship had proven to be surprisingly fragile, unable to stand up to any concentrated fire, even from something as small as a scout carrier.  
Since it was safe to travel again, Turan had accompanied the tech crews who were secretly mining the leviathan for disposal. The pilot was asleep. The ship's DRDs were off-line. They had even taken the precaution of pumping a mild sedative into the leviathan before she knew what was going on. All this made the ship strangely quiet - like a ghost ship.  
Vykir's own mission was otherwise. Curious about some aspects of Aeryn Sun's report, he decided he would like to interview the prisoners in person - principally Crichton. Crichton's appearance along with the remarkable phenomena of wormhole travel offered some interesting possibilities to the expanding Sebacean Empire. Such possibilities could very well benefit Vykir as well. Also, there was a name other than Crichton's on the prisoner manifest that Turan was anxious to reacquaint himself with. He had no doubt that she would remember him as well.  
He came alone, confident that they were safely contained, though he had taken the precaution of arming himself. They, of course, were not so happy to see him. D'Argo roared at Vykir and pulled at the chains linked to his chest rings - alerting the others to Vykir's presence. Vykir walked casually between both sets of cells. All the prisoners were confined to individual cells but he could view each one and they could see him.  
"Please, my Lord," Chiana said, trying to make her voice sound silky and alluring. "There must be some mistake. I am not a criminal. I am guilty of nothing. I was captured by these pirates," she lied.  
Vykir walked up to her.  
"I look to you for mercy and justice," she said, pursing her lips. "I would be grateful to anyone who could help me," she purred, rubbing her body against the cell door. Her eyes drifted over his body, hinting at the manner of her gratitude. "I can prove to you that I'm innocent. Just check the list of prisoners. My name is not on it."  
"Well, I don't know about your being innocent," Vykir said, grabbing Chiana's chin and turning her face so he could view her. "But yes, your name was not on the prisoner manifest. But we cannot let you go, I'm afraid. You're much too valuable." He let go of her chin.  
"What?" she said. "Me?"  
"Oh yes, you," he nodded. "Aeryn Sun has told us all about you Nebari. An enemy capable of destroying our strongest ship deserves special attention. You will serve us very well as a test subject for the biological weapons division."  
Chiana sagged to her knees, shaking. Words seemed to escape her.  
Vykir walked over to Rygel's cell.  
"Your Eminence," he said, politely addressing Rygel.  
"This is abominable!" Rygel spat at him. "You dare to cage us after all we've done! We risked our lives to save yours and you reward us by throwing us back here." Of course, Rygel didn't mention that he had hidden during all of the fighting.  
"Don't flatter yourself, Hynerian," Vykir told him. "You were fighting to save yourselves. The Vl'gani would have regarded you merely as food. I doubt that mercy even exists in their vocabulary."  
Mercy? And what do Peacekeepers know of mercy?" Rygel sneered.  
"Oh we know full well of mercy," Vykir countered. "We just have no desire to practice it. - Isn't that right, Zhaan?"  
Walking up to Zhaan's cell, Vykir actually smiled. His eyes caressed Zhaan's body, while she seemed to shy away from his gaze, backing toward the rear of the cell.  
"Zotoh Zhaan! By the stars, you have not aged one cycle since I last saw you. You are just as beautiful and lovely as you were when I was a young captain. In all my travels since, I have never seen any celestial wonder that could rival your Delvian eyes. You know, when I saw your name on the manifest, my heart skipped a beat."  
"I would have preferred that it had stopped altogether," Zhaan told him.  
Vykir laughed. "That's the spirit I remember! And of course I remember many other things as well," he told her. "Tell me, if you still hate me so much, why didn't you kill me today? You had the chance."  
"Believe me I wanted to," Zhaan told him, not caring to hide her true feelings. "But revenge is wrong, though in your case it would have been tinged with some justice. But I knew if I had done so, that my companions would have been the ones to suffer."  
Vykir shook his head and went to the next cell.  
"A Luxan warrior!" Vykir said, turning to examine D'Argo. D'Argo had been shackled. Two chains on his wrists and two more pulling him painfully by the restraining rings in his chest kept him secured. Vykir opened the cell door and strolled in to examine D'Argo more closely. "I'm surprised they even bothered to classify you as a prisoner. For my mind, Luxans are little better than animals. They're not worth the status that we give to sentient beings," he said, yanking on one of the chains attached to D'Argo's chest. D'Argo made no sound though his expression told of his terrible pain. "Would you care to hazard a guess how many of your kind I've had exterminated?"  
This was too much for D'Argo. He lashed out with his tongue, which was as long as he was tall. But Vykir had anticipated this - in fact, almost seemed to have been waiting for it. He caught the tongue with a gloved hand and twisted it around, pulling it out farther.  
"Oh-ho!" he laughed. "You'll have to do better than that! I fought in the Luxan Wars. My walls at home are covered with tongue trophies. But I thank you for this," he said, producing a long knife. "It's been a pleasure denied to me for too long."  
"Let him go, you bastard!" John screamed, thrusting his arm out the cell as if he could stretch it to bridge the distance. "You let him go! Or I swear I'll..."  
"Or you'll what?" Vykir said, mocking John's helplessness. "Be quiet, human. I'll let him live. I just want the tongue. Our troops can use the rest of him for sport later." D'Argo tried to pull his tongue back but Vykir just yanked it taught and brought his knife up.  
"Turan," Zhaan's soft gentle voice called out to Vykir. "Turan, please don't."  
Vykir stopped but he did not put his knife down. He looked at Zhaan. She offered him a beautiful smile, but one touched by sadness.  
"Turan, it's been a long time. But you know me. You know the things I can do for you. Let D'Argo go - for me."  
Vykir looked from Zhaan to D'Argo and back to Zhaan again.  
"You would do such - for this?" Vykir asked her, yanking the tongue.  
Zhaan nodded. "Yes, if you let him go, I will do so - willingly."  
"Very noble, Zhaan. You are a true Delvian whore," Vykir told her. "Willing to give of yourself for anyone." He dropped D'Argo's tongue which disappeared back inside the Luxan's mouth.  
Having lost interest in D'Argo, Vykir closed the cell door and walked up to Crichton, his true reason for coming.  
"So, you are John Crichton," he said. "You'll be glad to hear that Aeryn Sun has intervened on your behalf. You're being given a reprieve."  
"My behalf? What about the others?"  
"She didn't ask," Vykir lied. "My thinking is that you humans might be a Sebacean offshoot. You'll be glad to know that once we get back to our space, I can have whole teams of scientists help you to find your home."  
Why?" John asked. "So you can conquer it?"  
Vykir offered John a half smile. "I prefer to call it integration. Once we cull the unfit and weak from your population, the rest can be made into servitors. Their offspring in turn will become part of our Sebacean society. We've done it before with rediscovered lost colonies. Our gene engineers will be very interested in adapting your immunity to the Living Death among our subsequent generations."  
"Go to hell," John told him.  
"Your ignorance is the only reason I'm suffering your rudeness right now," Vykir told him. "Later, you'll be 'instructed' in proper etiquette when addressing a Sebacean Lord. - Also, I am interested in your wormhole experiences. Officer Sun tells me you're a scientist yourself. If you cooperate, you could find yourself comfortably ensconced doing wormhole research. I strongly suggest you learn to be more cooperative. On the one hand, you can have a respected position and the lovely company of Aeryn Sun. If you don't, the mindprobe will give me my information anyway, though it won't leave much for Aeryn. Think well on it, human. It really doesn't matter to me."  
With these parting words, Vykir left them, giving Zhaan a quick smile as headed back for the shuttle that would return him to the _Reyahko_.

"You asked for me, sir?" Aeryn said, standing at attention. She was in the Captain's quarters - the quarters of the woman who was possibly her genetic mother. Aeryn allowed none of this to cloud her focus. Aeryn had won her redemption. She wasn't about to let anyone, no matter what their name was, take it away from her.  
"Yes, Lieutenant. You can stand at ease."  
Aeryn nodded, relaxing slightly but still staring ahead.  
"Would you like some fellip nectar?" Sun offered.  
Aeryn blinked. The Captain had just offered her a beverage.  
"No sir," Aeryn replied.  
Sun poured herself a drink and poured Aeryn one as well.  
"Take it. You look like you could use it." Aeryn just looked at the cup. "I can make that an order, Lieutenant."  
Aeryn took the cup, looking from it to the woman who'd handed it to her. Aeryn was confused. This behavior was inconsistent to what she'd come to expect from the Captain. She didn't drink from the cup, wondering if it was poisoned; and if it was poisoned, if there was anything she could do about it. The Captain took the first sip and nodded to Aeryn. Aeryn sipped her drink. It was good. She drank some more.  
"How is it?" Sun asked.  
Aeryn nodded. "It's good. It's been a long time since I've had any."  
The Captain sat down, and kicked a chair over for Aeryn.  
"Sit down before I have to make that an order as well."  
Aeryn reluctantly sat, cradling her drink. This was very strange. Harsh discipline, even brutality, this she could accept. It was normal. But kindness - from a Sebacean, what was she to make of such? She had wondered about Vykir's motives, and now those of the woman who was probably her mother.  
There was an awkward silence.  
"You're taller than I would have thought," was all Sun could think to say.  
Aeryn shook her head, thinking. "I'm sorry, why do you say that?"  
"Your father... I mean... the man who helped make my Aeryn..." the other Aeryn stopped, trying to search for the right words. She decided to finally own something of the probable truth. "Your father - he was fairly short."  
"My father." Aeryn stared down at her drink. The idea of having a father, on top of meeting a mother, and having been pardoned, and brought home again - it was all a bit much. She just sipped her drink and sat in silence, willing to see where all of this would lead.  
"How are you settling in with your marauder crew?" Sun asked, seeking comfort in military chatter.  
"They didn't want to obey my orders at first," Aeryn said. "I had to fight the biggest one and break his arm before they'd accept me."  
Sun laughed. The answer pleased her. "It's just a rite of passage amongst them. But they're vicious, so don't turn your back. Still, marauders - that's a promotion fast track. You'll be a captain in no time." She actually smiled.  
Aeryn smiled back, but then, self conscious, looked down.  
Sun paused, trying to think of something else to say.  
"Lieutenant, you handled yourself very well on the leviathan. I'm not going to thank you for saving our lives. I think maybe you had _other_ reasons. And I can't say I'm happy for those. But you fought skillfully. You've obviously learned to handle yourself all these cycles."  
Aeryn nodded. "I've had a variety of assignments. On the frontier, you never knew what to expect or what you'd be facing."  
It was another good answer. Captain Sun nodded appreciatively.  
"And these are just the qualities I'm looking for. I need a volunteer for a dangerous mission. It's going to take a crack team to carry it out. And I need someone to lead that team. Are you up for it?"  
"Can I ask what the mission is?"  
The Vl'gani ship that attacked us was disabled in the course of the fight. It's out there, drifting a ten thousand or so metras away from this position. I want to send a team onboard, to scout it, and find out all they can about the Vl'gani and their technology. We'll face these aliens again, Lieutenant. That is a certainty. This could be our best chance to learn about them. What you discover on that ship could save Sebacean lives in the future. I know you're tired and that you've been through much already, so feel free to decline."  
"Please sir, I would very much like this assignment." It was a great opportunity, and Aeryn knew it. Her old ambition, long given up, was showing through. If she completed this mission, her position onboard would be secure.  
Aeryn's answer pleased Sun so much that she wanted to say something to Aeryn, something about maybe having been wrong. But Peacekeeper ship captains could never allow themselves to be wrong - or at least never admit it. Contriteness was not an option.  
"Well then, I should let you get some rest, " the Captain said, starting to get up.  
"With your permission, sir, I would like to return to Moya."  
"Moya?" Sun asked.  
"The leviathan," Aeryn explained. "Lord Vykir said I could bring the human officer back."  
Sun nodded. "Of course, we'll be transferring the prisoners soon anyway, but if you'd rather... What is he, this human of yours?"  
"He's a scientist. He's also a good technician. He learns new technologies very fast. I think you'll be pleased with him."  
"A scientist?" The Captain thought for a moment. "Your father was a tech rank," Sun said. "He was very good at what he did, but not exactly officer material. I never made it known. And obviously I couldn't continue the relationship. If it were known that your father was a tech, then you and Lanaer might have been sent to the tech wards. I wanted my children to be officers. Foolish pride, I know."  
"Lanaer?"  
"Your twin brother. I don't know what happened to him though. I never tried to find him - or you. Before the days of gene manipulation and breeder farms, having children was every Sebacean's second duty. That's all it was, you see - duty."  
It was too much for Aeryn to think about having a brother at this time. But she did have a question about the man who had been her father.  
"Did you care for the man who fathered your Aeryn?" she asked the Captain.  
"I thought I did at the time. I never really knew him though. It's one of my many regrets." Captain Sun paused at the word regret, glancing quickly at Aeryn and then looking away.  
"He died later." She tried to say this without feeling, but the subject and the company seemed to draw her emotions to the surface . "I know the tests haven't come back yet, but I do see something of his face in yours. It's really rather strange. It's like seeing the past - and yet something different. I have a holocube of him somewhere. I'll find it for you."  
"Thank you."  
"Thank you?"  
"It's a human expression. Humans use it to show gratitude for a kindness or an act that benefits them."  
"Do they? What an odd concept," Sun remarked.  
She looked at Aeryn, wanting to say something more.  
"Go collect your human, Lieutenant," the Captain told her. "Then get some rest. I'll see you in the morning for your mission briefing. You'll be taking your marauders and some other team members. You'll meet everyone then."  
The meeting over, Aeryn got up and saluted. As she exited the Captain's quarters, she turned back and stared at the door, trying to understand what had just happned. Then quietly, she headed for the flight deck. Her prowler was still onboard Moya so she would take her marauder out for a fly-by and then on to collect John. Looking around her, acknowledging the salutes of her crew and the lesser ranks, Aeryn was home. But never had home seemed so strange. It was as if, having learned to see with the eyes of others, she couldn't stop gazing with that same critical vision. Aeryn was lost in sights, smells, and sounds that were familiar and comforting, and yet so very alien at the same time. She leaned back against a bulkhead, watching the press of Peackeepers going about their duties as she folded herself back into the shadows. Aeryn observed the faces streaming back and forth, faces not unlike her own. Once so deft in the viscious patterns of Sebacean life, these same patterns now revealed themselves in the weaving crush of people rushing by. Each was intent upon following their own mindless thread of a singular duty. Their lives were colourless and crude. They roamed the galaxy and yet lived in worlds even smaller than the ships they lived in, their duty both blind comfort and shroud. And the weight of that same course duty now draped heavy on Aeryn's mind. She shook her head, trying to free herself of such unwelcome thoughts.   
Silently, Aeryn raised her hands, balled into fists. In a technique that Zhaan had once attempted to teach her, Aeryn tried to focus each of the choices before her as if they were physically held, one in each hand. In her left hand lay her old life, her zeal to serve and to define her own worth by the quality of that service. If duty was slavery, it was also strength. Closemindedness became focus. Prejudice was only pride and purpose seen from a different perspective.  
In her right hand lay chaos, and a frightening freedom. There she was adrift, belonging only tenuously to those she had been taught to despise. But there was also acceptance and respect, based not on rank or race, but because of who she was and what she could accomplish. There was also the vision of a larger universe where Peacekeepers were only a very small part, not really unlike those they made out to be lesser races. There also, perhaps for the first and maybe only time in her life, were the first seeds of true friendship. - Slowly, she let her right hand drop and unclenching her fist, she let that other life go, owning it no longer. Holding her left first to her chest, she crushed it dearly, vowing to find a way to reclaim her legacy.

Two technical ranks were sent down to the sublevel below the main engineering deck to check out a minor anomaly On new ships like the _Reyahko_, such adjustments were very common. It was a constant process of tracking down minor fluctuations, fixing them, adjusting phase or replacing defective conduit. Settling in was never an easy time if one was a technician.  
"Oy, it's gettin 'ot down 'ere!" Technician Bewc complained, wiping the sweat from his brow as he ducked and half crawled in the confined space. It was much hotter than he'd expected - dangerously so for a Sebacean. Still, he and his teammate, Karn, would probably have the problem fixed soon. "Sort of a musty smell too. Environmentals must be all shot."  
"Let's go back and suit up. We shouldn't be down here in this." Karn was worried that the heat would start to affect their judgment  
"Naw, let's go on," Bewc said. "If we take the time to go back and suit up, we'll never get our duty list done today. Besides, suits would be a misery in this cramped space. Let's just see what's ahead. The main regulator for this level is just up there, I think."  
They crawled along for some time. The heat was getting to be oppressive. But true to the plans they'd consulted, the environmental regulator was just ahead of them.  
"Look at this," Bewc said. "Some idiot's gone an turned it up seven sets above optimum."  
"Well, who was down here to do that?" Karn asked.  
Bewc shook his head. "Well, we'll fix it now. The Technical Officer will 'ear about this, I promise you that."  
Bewc made the necessary adjustments and the air immediately started to cool. Both technicians could feel it blowing past their face as an almost frozen wind that would bring the subsection down to its cold optimum level.  
"Ahhhhh," Bewc said, enjoying the feeling of the air rushing past his face. It felt wonderful against his cold sweat.  
"What was that?" Karn asked. "Did you hear that?"  
Bewc listened. He heard nothing above the blowing air ducts.  
"What was it?" he asked Karn.  
But Karn just shook head. "It was nothing, I guess."  
"See," Bewc slapped Karn on the chest. "I told you it would be a waste of time to go suit up. Now, let's get on that next problem so we can get out of 'ere."  
Karn nodded and they headed out toward the outer causeway, nearest to the hull sections.  
Bewc, reviewing his duty roster, "Hmmm. Somethin about some failed redundant circuits. Probably bad conduit again. We'll see what it is and while I disassemble, you can go up and fetch the spares."  
Karn nodded, occasionally glancing around as if still hearing more noises. But he said nothing to Bewc.  
They ducked through a circular access tube, Bewc in the lead.  
"Ah, 'ere we are..," Bewc started to say, having exited the tube on the far side. "What the...!"  
Karn came out and saw what Bewc was staring at. There was a huge hole in the hull, taller than they were and roughly circular. They could see stars and, in the distance, the Vl'gani ship drifting away from the _Reyahko_, leaking debris as it went. It took them some time to realize that they should have been dead and that the atmosphere on the level should have vented long ago. But since neither event had happened, Bewc leaned forward, a tentative hand reaching out towards the opening.  
"Agh!" He jerked it back. "It was really 'OT! Burned me, it did!"  
"What is it?" Karn asked.  
"I don't know. Some sort of energy barrier, I think." Bewc slapped the comm mike on his collar. "Technician Bewc to C.T.O. Bewc to C.T.O. Are you 'earing me, sir?  
They both listened, getting nothing but static.  
Karn pulled out his instruments to take a reading. "There's a lot of stray signal here. We'll need to pull back to make our report. That hole is reading a high local energy field - but I don't know what kind. The same interference that's blocking our mikes is probably jamming the sensors. Command probably doesn't know we even have a breach."  
There was a distant groaning sound, something like rocks rubbing roughly against each other.  
"What was that?" Bewc asked.  
"That's what I heard before," Karn told him. "Only you didn't hear it."  
"Well I 'eard it now," Bewc said. "I say - let's get out of 'ere and make our report in person."  
Karn nodded, agreeing that this was a very good idea. Bewc started first, ducking back inside the accessway. When Bewc was halfway through, Karn paused to take the briefest of looks at the hole, captivated by the phenomenon and the stars. What he saw was a strange sort of bristly tan coloured leg, reaching around through the hole - from outside the ship. Several more segmented legs appeared and a spindly armored creature pulled itself in from space. Karn jumped for the access tube but as he bent down, he felt a stabbing pain in his back. Looking down, he saw a spiked claw had been thrust through his chest. Going into convulsions, he gurgled what should have been a warning to Bewc.  
"Karny, ya back there then? Get a move on!" Bewc tried to hiss behind him as he crawled through the tube.  
But Karn didn't answer. Listening carefully, Bewc heard a strange ripping and cracking sound. And there was a powerful smell. Something in his mind told him to get out of there fast. Ignoring the pain on his hands from the joining rings in the tube, Bewc hurried as fast as he could. He'd made it halfway out the tube when something grabbed his foot and painfully pulled him backwards. Latching onto the deck, he tried to hold on, his nails scratching into the riveted metal plates, leaving bloody trails from each one of his fingers. He grimaced in pain as something sharp lanced him from behind. Then he was dragged back into the tube, his screams muffled and sounding hollow inside. The screaming stopped.

Two of Aeryn's crewmen brought John into command, each holding onto one arm. Aeryn hadn't thought to mention it, so they had brought him shackled, as they would have any prisoner.  
"Remove those," she said, nodding to the shackles.  
Raz touched a control key card to each set of shackles, popping them open.  
"Leave us," Aeryn told them.  
John rubbed his wrists where they'd been abraded, watching the Peacekeepers depart.  
When they were gone, Aeryn smiled at him. "Hello." Her smile was broad and her eyes sparkling. She was happy to see him.  
John didn't smile. He just nodded back. He seemed to be worried.  
"Hey." he said, looking at Aeryn's new uniform. "So, you're back with your people."  
Aeryn smiled like someone imparting good news. "I've been reinstated. I'm an officer again."  
"Congratulations," he said.  
She continued to smile, but John didn't seem to be pleased. He just stood there, scowling.  
"What's the matter?" Aeryn asked.  
"I'm very happy for you, Aeryn. I know it's what you wanted."  
"But I'm taking you with me," Aeryn explained to him. "Once Crais is captured, his sentence on you will be nullified. You'll be a free man, John."  
She looked at him, hoping to read the relief that should have been in his face. Instead, he just looked more uneasy.  
"But what about the others?" he asked.  
Aeryn's smile vanished. She shook her head.  
"What does that mean?" John asked her.  
Aeryn thought of what to say. "They're being transferred to the carrier later - as prisoners. They'll be taken back and..."  
"..to a prison planet?"  
Aeryn nodded.  
"Aeryn, you can't just let them do that!" John insisted.  
"I don't have a choice. There is nothing I can do."  
"I don't believe that. I can't believe that."  
"John, I did what I could. And I did manage to save you."  
John laughed. "Save me? For what? So I could become a happy little ant in your colony? I don't think so, Aeryn." He shook his head. "Do you know what your people are going to do with Chiana?" he asked.  
"Yes, I know," Aeryn admitted, again bowing her head. She thought of telling him how she had tried, but at the moment, John seemed unwilling to listen to whatever she might say.   
"And you would just let them do that?" John asked.  
"I can't help her, John," Aeryn told him.  
John staggered as if struck. He looked at her, unable to believe what he was hearing. Aeryn had gotten what she wanted, and now she was just cutting loose. He felt then that he truly did not know her anymore. He wondered then if he ever had. On the chance that the friend he knew was still somewhere inside her, he decided to try and break through - make her realize what was happening. John rushed up to Aeryn, pushing his face into hers.   
"And what about D'Argo?" he asked, pushing her back violently. "When we were caught in the Flax, he gave up a chance to find his own son to save us."  
He pushed her again.  
"John, please..." Aeryn put her hands up, silently asking him to back off.  
"When you were suffering from heat delirium, Zhaan poured ice water on you, trying to keep your temperature down. You thought she wouldn't care about you because you were one of the hated Peacekeepers. But she did care, didn't she? She kept you from the Living Death!"  
"John, you're hurting..."  
John pushed her violently, forcing Aeryn's back painfully into the manual control panel.  
"Even that little putz, Rygel, taunted Durkha when that psycho was going to torture you, willing to take in on himself." He started to poke Aeryn's chest, each poke punctuating a word. "And you are just going to cut and run on all of them. You got what you wanted. To hell with the others. Is that it?" he asked, grabbing her by the shoulders.  
"ENOUGH!" Aeryn grabbed John's waist and butted his face with her forehead. Picking him up, she screamed and tossed him to the ground. Looking at him while he was getting up, she touched her forehead, seeing his blood there. Her warrior training had taken over and she'd acted before she realized what she'd done.  
"John...?," she said, trying to reach for him.  
Wiping the blood from his nose, John pushed himself to his feet and staggered backwards. "Stay away from me, Aeryn."  
"I..." She stopped, holding her arms up, palms outward. Aeryn backed off. She tried to reason with John.  
"If they were in my place, they would do the same. They would do anything to get home again - no matter what it cost, no matter who it hurt. Just look at how they cut Pilot's arm off. I am no different than they are. I want to go home."  
"That's right, Aeryn," John nodded. "I agree. You're no different. I thought you were, but I was wrong. You're just like they were when they cut off Pilot's arm. So, how does that make you feel? Do you like what you are? I'd really like to know."  
Looking at Crichton, Aeryn shook her head in anger and bewilderment, as if she could not understand him.  
"They were prisoners before, John. They know how to survive. All I want is my life back! I don't owe them, I don't owe you a thing."   
John listened to her. Her cool had finally broken He was getting through to her, not that it helped.  
"That's right Aeryn, you don't owe me anything. I care because the only thing left to them is their freedom. And you're just letting your people take that away." John looked at her and shook his head. "For the first time in your life, you were free too. I guess, you just never knew it."  
John walked back, intending to leave Command.  
"Where are you going?"  
"I'm going back. Call your people, Aeryn. - You've made it clear what your choice is. Well, I've made mine."  
"John, you don't have to do this," she tried to reason with him. "If you come back with me, my people will help you find your home."  
"But at what cost, Aeryn? Selling out my friends? Bringing the Peacekeepers to my planet? How do you expect me to sleep at night once I get there? - Face it, your bargain stinks."  
Aeryn bowed her head. She blinked to dam the moisture welling in her eyes. But it broke free and teared down her cheeks. She couldn't stop the tears. Trying only made them come harder. She slapped her command mike and turned to face the viewscreen so that no one could see her cry. Raz and the other Peacekeeper reappeared.  
"Take him back to his cell," she told them, still facing away. Her voice was husky and choked. "He's to remain with the other - prisoners."  
They saluted. They also detected the distress in her voice, but decided not to question it. Aeryn heard them place the shackles on him, heard them click in place, and heard their footfalls as they left her. When he was gone, she forced herself to bury the feelings that had betrayed her. If Peacekeepers had any feelings, they certainly didn't matter.

Lieutenant Orlac, monitoring ships systems, noted a power drain on her board. She called over to the Second, Lieutenant Tor.  
"What is it?" Tor asked.  
"Sir, I got a four percent power loss on some of my systems." She pointed at her console to show him.  
"Yes I see that," he nodded. "I think the techs are in that area and have probably pulled some crystals out to work on them. Since those are non-critical systems, let's wait for them to report in before we do anything."  
"Yes, sir," Orlac nodded, noting that the power loss had grown to five percent. But she ignored it, going about her other duties.

"So, Aeryn has gone back to them." D'Argo shook his head.   
But none of them, excepting John, seemed much surprised. Which one of them wouldn't return home if they could. Zhaan bowed her head, tears tracking down her beautiful face. Rygel said nothing but to flatten his ears against the top of his head. Even Chiana had stopped whining for the moment. The mood had gone from bitter to hopeless.  
"Well, I will die fighting when they come for me," D'Argo vowed.  
"Me too," Chiana added dejectedly. "I don't want to become a test subject. I'd rather be dead."  
"I think we all would," Zhaan added, indicating that her decision was also leaning in that direction, given what she'd promised Vykir.  
Rygel said nothing. He was a survivor, whatever happened. But he would at least listen to any plan and perhaps help out if it might help him. But there would be none of this fighting to the death nonsense for him.  
"Well, we have to think of a plan," John said. "What I'm going to do is call one of the guards and tell them that I've changed my mind. I'll tell them that I've decided to join Aeryn. They'll call, she'll say yes, and then they'll release me."  
"How is that going to help anyone but you?" D'Argo growled.  
"Now, hold on. Before you jump to conclusions, hear me out. - What I was thinking is that I'll push the guard that has the keys backwards. Zhaan, you grab her and get the key card and get out while I'm working on the other one. Hopefully, Moya will be able to starburst by then. We can get the hell on outta here."  
"That plan won't work," Aeryn said, revealing herself from around the corner.  
D'Argo hissed upon seeing her. She ignored him and walked up to John's cell. She was carrying something in her hand, but it wasn't a weapon.  
"It won't work," Aeryn continued, "because they would shoot you the moment you tried it. Don't try to think tactical, John. It's not your style."  
She lifted up a biomechanoid tool, and handed it to Crichton through the grate.  
"What's this?" he asked her.  
"Don't you recognize a thingamajig when you see one? With this, the locks won't give you any problem."  
She turned to the others. "I have to go. But I've decided that I'll need the extra firepower, so I'm taking your guards with me. Once my marauder is off Moya, there won't be anyone here and you can revive Pilot."  
"Aeryn, I..." John tried to say what he was feeling, trying to heal every ugly he had ever said to her with the salve of a few simple words. But at the moment, those words escaped him.  
Aeryn turned away from him and walked over to the other cells. "Good-bye I wish you all luck. I'm sorry I couldn't do more."  
"You've done well - for a Sebacean," D'Argo qualified, smiling at Aeryn. Since he was still restrained, there was nothing he could do but nod at her. She nodded back.  
"You'll find your son, someday," she told him. "Don't worry. I kept my word."  
"I knew you would," he told her.  
"And Zhaan," Aeryn said, walking up to the Delvian.  
Zhaan reached out through the bars and touched her hand to Aeryn's face, smiling. "Go with the Goddess, Aeryn" she said, more tears on her cheek.  
"Rygel?" Aeryn addressed the monarch, kneeling down. "I suppose you'll be the only one I won't miss - much anyway." But she said this smiling.  
Rygel was fiddling with something in his pocket. He handed it to Aeryn through the bars.  
"What's this?" she asked.  
"It's my Hynerian luckstone. It's supposed to bring you luck. But seeing that our luck has been such dren of late, it must be absolutely worthless. I thought you should have it."  
Aeryn smiled. "I'll treasure it always."  
"Chiana, good luck," Aeryn said, getting up to say good-bye to the young Nebari. She nodded back at Crichton. "Take good care of him for me."  
Chiana didn't say anything but cocked her head, puzzled by the request. But she looked, if not happy, at least hopeful again.  
Last Aeryn said her good-byes to John. He was still struggling for something to say. His eyes were even starting to water where hers had dried. He started to speak, wanting to say something anyway. But Aeryn put her hand through an opening in the grate, cupping his cheek in her hand, her thumb caressing his lips. Whenever he tried to speak, she shook her head.  
"Just let me look at you," she told him. She looked into his eyes, let her own travel over each part of his face, marrying what she saw to the touch of her hand. When she'd looked enough, she said, "Someday, you'll find someplace where you can be happy; and someone you can be happy with - and then you will have found your home, John. It just might not be where you thought it was."  
He put his hand on hers and nodded. "Good-bye, Aeryn. Good luck." He wished for the tongue of a poet just then. But he couldn't think of anything more to say than to offer her such a weak farewell. Of course the words would come later, but only after she'd gone.  
Aeryn let go of him, and walked away. When she'd disappeared around the corner, John listened to her footfalls. When these had gone, he just bowed his head, pressing it against the grate.

Seeing the blinking light, Vykir turned off the privacy switch.  
"What is it?"  
"My Lord, the Captain requests your presence in Command at your convenience."  
"Tell her - soon," he said, flicking the switch back on.  
He finished reading the report and turned to the science tech.  
"And no one else knows about this?"  
"No one, my Lord, as you instructed," the technician answered.  
Vykir took a moment to consider what to do with what he had just learned. The report was the result of Aeryn's Sun's genetic test to determine if she was indeed Captain Sun's daughter. Along with that result, there was the surprising but inescapable revelation that Aeryn had foreign DNA in her tissues. According to the report, she was no longer a pure Sebacean. Sebacean society demanded that all of its members be one hundred percent pure. The custom for anything less was to immediately exterminate the "unclean entity." Not even a Lord of the Supreme Council had any say about such issues for they lay at the core of both Sebaceans' philosophy and their identity as a master race.  
"You destroyed the genetic samples you took - and all other copies of this?" Vykir asked, pointing at the report on his screen.  
The technician nodded. "Yes, my Lord, again, at your instruction."  
Vykir nodded, satisfied with the answer. "Well, obviously these tests are corrupted," he said, knowing full well they were correct.  
"My Lord, I assure you the results are accurate," the tech protested. "And Captain Sun is waiting to see them."  
Vykir glared at her. "You dare to contradict me?"  
"No sir!" the tech replied, swallowing in fear.  
Vykir explained the new reality to the woman. "Let me tell you what happened. You never checked the results of the tests. You printed them out and brought them to me. You know nothing else. - I think you know what the result will be if I ever hear or discover otherwise."  
"Yes sir!" the tech responded. "You're quite right. I see that now. It happened just as you said."  
"You may leave," Vykir told her.  
When the tech was gone, Vykir reread Aeryn's report and discovered that Aeryn had already told him about her genetic tampering. It had just failed to register. When he arranged to intercept the test results, the last thing he'd expected to see was that Aeryn was infected with alien DNA. He had only planned on thwarting Captain Sun's desire for filliacide until the woman could come to her senses. Now the issue was even more complex. As long as the possibility that Aeryn was her daughter haunted her, Captain Sun would insist on seeing the proof. Vykir could never allow such tests to be conducted for what else they might reveal. Vykir knew, of course, that he must disown Aeryn. Helping a pure Sebacean asset was honorable to both his sense of duty and his memories. But harboring an impure freak was something that even a Council Lord could not face down easily. Vykir didn't for one moment think that Aeryn was any less a Peacekeeper than the day she was born. And after all he'd done, part of him refused to doom her for such a ridiculous prejudice. But Sebacean Law was harsh and the purity codes were almost religion. If the Captain or anyone else of rank discovered that Aeryn was genetically impure, Vykir's own status would be in jeopardy for having pardoned her. Vykir thought about having the technician killed to cover his own involvement. But such a death would only compound the issue. Though it wasn't the perfect ending, Captain Sun must be told an answer that would satisfy her, and that would give her no reason to seek anything more once the issue of Aeryn had been laid to rest.  
Aeryn, of course, would have to die, and thereby eliminate the most damning evidence, her own body. This would free Lord Vykir from this misbegotten embarrassment. Fortunately, before departure, he had had several of his people placed into key positions within the ship. They were onboard as insurance in the unlikely event that Captain Sun elected to join the renegade, Crais. To enable this secret network, there was also a redundant communication system in place, unbeknownst to the Captain, that Vykir could use to signal his agents in a micron, setting them into action. Transmitters surgically implanted in their aural cavities allowed them to receive messages without anyone else being able to hear. Accessing this secret system, Vykir punched in the codes to contact one of his men, a top assassin posing as a medical officer. Vykir also accessed a visual monitor of the Infirmary where the man was currently about his duties.  
"Find Lieutenant Aeryn Sun and see that she is eliminated as soon as is convenient. I want this to appear as an accident. I leave the details up to you."  
The agent gave a slight nod, nothing untoward that would be noticeable to anyone but Vykir. Vykir turned off the visual. Then he erased Aeryn's report, marking the empty file as ultra classified. Though he destroyed the hard copy of the genetic test, he kept the electronic version within a secret file. Still, thinking of his own daughter, Vykir wished there was some other way. But he was a Peacekeeper and Peacekeepers knew how to face hard choices. 

"Captain," Officer Orlac reported. "The second technical team hasn't reported back. I'm getting some sort of interference. It could be from malfunctioning panels in that area but I can't be certain. And the power loss is still increasing and it is starting to appear on our primary systems."  
The Captain turned to her second. "Tor, take an armed unit down there and find out what those techs are up to. Send me a report as soon as you can - even if you have to use a runner."  
"Yes Captain." Yuran Tor ordered an infantry squad to meet him in engineering and immediately left Command.  
"Captain, Lieutenant Sun is reporting that she is approaching the Vl'gani ship and preparing to land her marauder."  
Aeryn nodded. She looked out at the viewscreen, at the magnification of the Vl'gani ship, wishing she could see what Aeryn was seeing; wishing she could be there; wishing she could do something other than sit and wait.

The marauder swept over the wide winged hull of the Vl'gani ship. It was unlike anything Aeryn had ever seen before. What would have otherwise been a thick tubular ship was stretched port and starboard, so that the sides flattened out, forming two undulating wing-like expansions. Sweeping the hull, their search lights created a green scintillation, formed from small patterns of reflected light. Searchlights and scanners gave the marauder crew both instrumental and visual data that confirmed that the ship had been badly damaged. Though power levels from the Vl'gani engines were minimal, the ship's weapon systems were active and functioning. This latter fact was born out when the main guns opened fire on the marauder. But these were intended to fire on larger ships and they couldn't move fast enough to track and target the small marauder.  
Before they encountered any functioning second line defenses, Aeryn had her pilot steer for a section of hull damage in the center of the ship. The marauder deftly dodged another plasma burst and carreened toward the midsection of the Vl'gani ship, which now grew huge in their viewscreen. The _Reyahko'_s frag cannons had hit this thick midsection, blasting through a number of decks. Finding what was obviously a launch hanger, Aeryn had the marauder set down. Once it had landed, she left the pilot and one other rank stay with the ship while her two surviving crewman from the original team, two replacements, and the two commandeered guards from Moya disembarked. All of them wore full enclosed battle gear to isolate them from any hostile atmosphere, or vacuum. They turned on their scanners, attached to their rifles, to track any movement. They had to set their boots to clamp mode, using the mass of the ship itself as weak source of gravity which the boots could anchor to.   
"This is a scouting mission," Aeryn told her crew. "I don't want any heroics. This isn't the time for it. We find our information, we collect samples, and then we leave. Got it?"  
The crew nodded. Aeryn gave the hand signal to head out. As much as she wanted to take the lead, Aeryn let Sergeant Raz take point. Officers in command were expected to stay back and assess the situation, give orders, and lead by example only when the situation called for such.  
Private Wehca, who was monitoring their position compared to the marauder, reported to Aeryn, "Sir, the material of this hull isn't letting our tight beam pass through. It's scattering it everywhere. Once we go inside, we'll be cut off from communication. We could try open channel. The signal will just bounce everywhere and it might find a way outside."  
"No, I don't want stray signals. Let's not give the enemy any information or help them track us. We'll run silent," Aeryn told the crew. "Use hand signals once we're inside."  
Raz led the way again, moving past the wreckage from the ship's interior, kicking away debris and signaling back when it was clear to proceed. Even the wreckage was bizzare on the Vl'gani ship. Rather than finding twisted bits of melted metal or burned synthetics that would have been typical of most ships, the glassy substance of the Vl'gani vessel seemed to be made out of oddly shaped bits and pieces that reminded Aeryn of something she'd seen before. Some of it was so fractured that it fell to powder at the touch. Shining her light on a nearby wall, Aeryn discovered that the ship was composed of a fused matrix of Vl'gani bodies. They had formed into a meshed web of corpses and had been frozen in place with some sort of sealant. Now that she knew what to look for, she could make out dead alien eyes staring back at her by the thousands. These Vl'gani were different than the warriors she'd fought on Moya. They seemed to be more slender and spindly, and definately much smaller.  
"Workers," Wehca told Aeryn. "We saw them before, repairing damaged Vl'gani ships after the battle at Sor. Unlike the warriors, they can work in vacuum. It seems the Vl'gani use them as raw material as well."  
A private, one of the guards from Moya, brushed past a bit of broken leg that was sticking out of the wreckage. It sliced open his environmental suit and exposed him to vacuum. The suit was self sealing, so his exposure was minimal. But he was walking, as if in pain. He'd been cut and was bleeding inside the suit. Aeryn watched the man take a few steps and silently ordered him back to the marauder. They would only be hampered by his slower pace if he remained. Signaling that she wanted no more careless losses, Aeryn motioned for them to go ahead. They stopped when Raz found the portal.  
It was a large oval opening, twice as tall as Aeryn, that seemed to glow at the edges. Raz put her hand to the portal and pulled it back. She signaled that it was warm to the touch, even through the suit. Tossing some wreckage through, Aeryn saw that it passed through easily, but also that it floated up - no gravity. She pointed at Private Zoma and then pointed through the portal. Zoma jumped through, swept his rifle about and then signaled back that it was clear. One by one, they jumped through, feeling a quick flash of heat as they passed the barrier. On the other side, in a cramped tubular passageway that offered them no firm footing, they could read an atmosphere, one that was barely tolerable in terms of oxygen - but which was too high in temperature for Sebacean comfort. They would remain suited. Having passed through the portal, Private Wehca signaled that the marauder was no longer on her field scanner. They were inside the ship, and on their own.  
As the Peacekeepers turned the corner, venturing deeper inside the ship, two bodies detached themselves from the tubular walls of the passageway that had been vacated. They were long and spindly things, but their seven appendages and the peeking bands of luminescence marked them as Vl'gani. Though they carried no apparent weapons, they each had two long thick rope like tentacles, while the rest of their legs or arms each ended in two pairs of opposable claws that looked very capable of killing. Scuttling on either side of the passageway, the Vl'gani workers quietly shadowed Aeryn's Peacekeepers.

When Vykir finally appeared in command, the officer staff was attending to a minor crisis, apparently trying to pin down the source of a power loss. Vykir found this somewhat disturbing. A new ship like the _Reyahko_ might be expected to have some minor problems, but nothing like a power loss.  
"Problems Captain?"  
"It seems so, my Lord. We have power loss on several systems. I sent Lieutenant Tor down to engineering to investigate, and I'm waiting for his report."  
While they were waiting, Vykir decided to reveal his news, keeping his voice low, so that he wouldn't be overheard by the other officers. "I've just been reviewing the results of Aeryn Sun's genetic tests - the ones you'd ordered."  
"Yes, I heard that you had them sent to you first," the Captain said. The tone of her voice left Vykir no doubt that she felt he was butting into her personal business - which was true. But given that he was a Sebacean Lord, it was also true that there was nothing she could do about it.  
"Captain, tell me something. At what point did you realize that this other Aeryn Sun might be your daughter?"  
Sun didn't answer right away. But with Vykir hovering over her, she had to answer at some point. "I suspected she might be my daughter when her personal file revealed that she was the correct age. Once I had a chance to see her, then I knew for certain."  
"Then why did you ask for a test?" Vykir asked.  
Sun didn't answer the question.  
"All right," Vykir nodded. "I will tell you then. You wanted the test so that you could doctor the results and make it appear that Aeryn Sun, this traitor conspiring with prisoners, was not your genetic offspring."  
"If you say so, my Lord," Aeryn replied.  
"Unfortunately for you, I heard about the test and intercepted the results. - But, as it turns out, we needn't have bothered. She's not your daughter, despite any other coincidences. So, your instincts and my suppositions were totally wrong. We've both gone to this trouble for nothing." He looked at the Captain. "You don't seem very happy with the news. I thought you would have been relieved."  
Sun cocked her head. "I would still like to review the results for myself, my Lord," she told Vykir.  
"Sorry, I thought with the most important question put to rest, that there was nothing more to interest you. I've had all the results destroyed, along with her own report."   
Sun listened to this without comment. When she failed to say anything, Vykir asked her, "Where is Lieutenant Sun? I thought I would give her the news."  
"She's not onboard. I sent her team to scout the Vl'gani ship."  
"A very dangerous assignment - you sent her on that?" At first, Vykir was angry that Sun had defied him by sending Aeryn on this suicide mission. She knew that he would have preferred a different marauder crew. Then he realized that were Aeryn to die, it would serve both their purposes. The assassination he had ordered might not be needed after all.  
"Yes, I did, my Lord. She's good in action, thinks on her feet. I needed someone and she was more than qualified to lead the team."  
"No, ulterior motive then?"  
"Yes," the Captain confessed, "I did have a motive. - My crew is never going to accept her based on name or rank alone. She's going to have to earn the right to be on this ship. I'm giving her that chance."  
Vykir didn't say anything at first. Then he laughed, which Sun found very strange and somewhat startling. Only rarely did Vykir offer even the faintest of smiles. She had never heard him laugh.  
"You find this amusing, my Lord?"  
"I don't know what has caused this change of heart in you, Captain. But it has certainly brought things to an interesting turn." Turan Vykir did not elaborate further.  
Instead he turned to face the Captain, his voice dropping even lower so that even she had to lean close to hear him. "I am curious. Why do you care about helping her now? A little while ago, before you knew the results of the report, I could have ordered her execution, and you would have pulled the trigger - gladly I might add."  
Aeryn was distracted. The status of her ship was of more interest to her at the moment. She found Vykir's questions bothersome, given the crisis.   
"I decided you were right when you said I was punishing her for being my daughter. Now I'm giving her the chance to prove herself. She can make her own fate - without the prejudices, or the help, of anyone."  
"But I told you, Captain, she is not your daughter. The report was quite clear on that point."  
"My Lord, I don't know what you read in that report; but I find that impossible to believe."  
Vykir shook his head. "Your tone is presumptuous, Captain. If you insist upon insulting me and ending your career, at least do it for something resembling the truth. - Think about what you are saying. Think now. Why would I lie to you? I am Aeryn Sun's staunchest advocate. It was I who initiated her pardon."  
Of course this was all true. What would be Vykir's motivation for lying to her? Distracted by this revelation, the Captain felt a blush run to her cheeks, much as if Vykir had slapped her in the face. She had come full circle to finally accept Aeryn, only to find out now that she wasn't her daughter after all. It was an incredible irony that mocked every feeling boiling inside her.  
"If she's not my daughter, who's is she then?"  
Vykir shook his head. "Some other woman's daughter - a Sebacean - a Peacekeeper - someone unknown. The test did reveal that she is related to you - but only very distantly." He looked at Aeryn. "I do regret this, Captain. I truly wish that this could end with you having found your daughter." He turned to her, offering her a look that was almost sympathetic. "But I suppose you and I are just two old warriors, destined to die alone and unmourned."  
The Captain felt a bit of moisture at her eyes. Touching her face, she looked at her fingers, regarding the strange glistening wetness of her tears. At first she didn't know what they were. Shocked, she realized that after all her cycles, there was still a small opening in her emotional armor. She quickly patted her face on her sleeve. Aeryn would have to wait. Right now she had other issues at hand. The crisis soon buried any thoughts of Aeryn.  
"Where's that report?" she demanded of Lieutenant Orlac.  
She didn't have long to wait. An infantry rank burst into Command. He was bleeding from an open wound slashed along his left arm. The arm lay dangling useless at the man's side.  
"Captain! I've come to report that the lower decks have been overrun! We've been boarded by the Vl'gani!"  
"How?" Vykir asked. He turned to Sun. "How could they have done this?"  
But she ignored the Council Lord. "Where is Lieutenant Tor?" the Captain asked the trooper.  
"He's dead, Sir. And the Vl'gani are in possession of engineering."  
The Captain was just in the process of wondering how long it would take the aliens to learn enough of their technology to cut the power, when Command went dark and the ducts stopped venting fresh air. She had gotten her answer.

Everything was quiet onboard Moya. It was cold as well, bitter cold. Pilot had powered systems down to a minimal level, waiting until Moya was ready for starburst, and, with luck, that moment of sweet escape. Even the DRDs were silent and sleeping. The current need was so great that their meager power had been siphoned. Any power that was not needed to feed Moya's baby was routed to hurry the engines, and then shields. There was only a little left over for life support. Heat was a luxury that they just couldn't afford. No longer denied entry, the frozen touch of space was leaching the warmth from Moya, filling the leviathan with its dead coldness, playing in chambers normally denied to it. Cold licked at the flesh of the soft bodies inside, caressing them with chills, kissing them with numbness.  
Though they kept to themselves, none of the crew was alone. Fear was with them always, standing in the background behind each thought, reminding them of its presence throughout. It kept them such good company that none of them grew sleepy, or tired, or bored, despite the tedium, despite the cold. In fact, they were at wits end to find some distraction to bury this fear; and yet the most distracting thing of all was the Peacekeeper ship lurking nearby. Much as they tried to think of something else, every thought came in a circular fashion back to this ship. Like the void of vacuum, like the cold, like the fear, the ship was the harbinger of all hopelessness. But it had grown strangely quiet. And the Peacekeepers had not returned. Why they could only guess at. In truth they did not care as much hope that whatever it was, that it lasted long enough for them to be gone. But the only thing that truly seemed to last was the misery and discomfort that lay before them. The microns passed in measure, one by one, each unit of time dragging its heels to stretch out the moments to just this side of eternity. At least that's the way it seemed to those anxious to be away.  
Pilot was readying Moya for immediate starburst, just as eager to be gone as the others, and perhaps only slightly more frustrated. Without his DRDs and the shut down systems to distract him, he turned to Moya for comfort. But Moya, like the others, preferred to remain with her own thoughts - alone. He sensed feelings which might have been shame, which could have been blame. But as if sensing Pilot on the edge of her thoughts, Moya grew quiet and kept him away for the moment. Pilot was not used to being alone; he did not like it. To help occupy his many faculties, Pilot devoted improvised tasks, some of them redundant, to at least draw some of his focus to a useful end. He had to be useful. But waiting, just waiting, he felt anything but. He spent a great deal of attention trying to figure out what the Peacekeeper techs had been up to while he was made to sleep. But without his DRDs, Pilot's ability to analyze was severely restricted. Also, he kept wondering why the Peacekeeper ship was now drifting away earlier, it had strictly maintained a relative position.  
"Is she ready yet?" Rygel's voice once again asked over a comm link.  
"No Rygel," Pilot patiently answered. "Soon."  
Rygel's voice, loud for his size, bellowed over the speaker cell, "I am cold!" Rygel said this in a voice which suggested that this fact had become the core issue of all time. "I am cold and I wish to be away from this place. Now tell me, Pilot, how soon is soon?"  
Pilot checked his chronometer. "Soon is ninety-three microns closer to our goal than we were last time you called me." Given Moya's fluctuating power levels, a regrettable byproduct of her pregnancy, I'm afraid, I cannot give you a better estimate."  
Pilot had said much the same thing before and wondered just how many times Rygel was going to ask him before he believed Pilot. When Rygel didn't answer, Pilot checked on him to see what he was about. The Hynerian Royal was counting his trade goods, taking comfort in organizing and categorizing them. Pilot truly wished that starburst could be achieved soon. That way he could escape from both the Peacekeepers and Rygel's pestering questions. Flicking the switch off of Rygel's cell, Pilot's subsequent investigations discovered that D'Argo was again playing his shilquen. Pilot kept the channel open, glad for the distraction of music.  
Rygel had retreated to his cell. He chose to preoccupy himself by counting his gohjan beads, jars of watered spice wine, fragrant wrapped packets of fevlan root extract - all the cheap tawdries that served both as trade items and the materialistic anchor for the Hynerian. He had once been used to so much more - real valuables. But time and need had lowered his standards and the garbage of past cycles now gleamed brightly in his eye as the treasures of the moment. Focused by avarice, he was perhaps the least afraid of all the crew. His thoughts were happily preoccupied and lost in greedy imagination. Hedging his bets against recapture, Rygel put each dubious treasure in its own hiding place, every now and then casting a jealous eye to make sure he was not being watched. He kept having this feeling he was being spied on but decided at last that it was just the chill of the increasing cold creeping down his back.  
Chiana watched Rygel, from her vantage point in the duct above the Hynerian's cell, making a mental note of all his hiding places. But she wondered why she should even bother. Rygel's idea of booty was pathetic and hardly worth her efforts. Part of her thought that it might be fun to steal them anyway, and go about planting them in various parts of the ship. She could force Rygel to play in a game of her making. His greed would be the leash by which she could yank him this way and that as he hunted for his junk. But Chiana was tired of games. They were a poor substitute for comfort or courage - both things lacking in her at the moment. So, she hid in the shadows of cramped ducts and accessways, shivering, afraid of being alone, and terrified of being in the open. Finding no entertainment in Rygel, Chiana thought about who else she could spy on for amusement. Not Zhaan. Not only was the Delvian the most boring after Aeryn Sun, Zhaan actually seemed to be able to sense Chiana's presence at times. It was very disturbing for Chiana to be revealed like that. She did not like being caught or found out and had a profound dislike, and respect, for those who could do so.  
Of the others, D'Argo seemed the best candidate for observation. Chiana liked D'Argo. The fact that the Luxan seemed to go out of his way to ignore her made her even more curious. D'Argo was everything she wasn't. He had the arrogance of extreme confidence. He didn't think - he acted. And in her mind, he was fearless. She was jealous of his courage and strength, just as she envied Zhaan and Crichton their composure. She even envied Pilot for his work, to keep him so preoccupied. And just then, she was even beginning to envy Rygel that his pathetic psyche could become so wrapped up in worthless junk. At least he wasn't afraid, or so it seemed to Chiana. For her, it seemed as though everyone had it better than she. But what else was new. This had always been her lot in life. Giving up on the Hynerian, Chiana crawled silently toward D'Argo's cell. When she heard music, she used the sound of the Luxan's instrument to guide her through the darkness. Chiana huddled unseen in the large vent duct above D'Argo's cell, rocking herself, taking comfort and ease from her nervous energy in the alien rhythms of Luxan music.  
D'Argo, who had spent his time playing his shilquen, paused every now and then to warm his hands, which were growing numb and leaden. It was distracted playing. Every other glance was directed at his qualta while he listened past the music for Pilot or Crichton to tell him they were ready for starburst; or that the Peacekeepers were on their way back. D'Argo was unaware of all his silent listeners. He never knew how much they relied on his playing to provide them with some measure of distraction. However, since it did not provide himself with any such comfort, D'Argo put aside his shilquen and decided to practice with his qualta instead. It was a better distraction, and a way of focusing past the coldness in his muscles. His body was its own furnace, or it could be if he managed to keep moving. With every swing, he imagined himself beheading a Peacekeeper. With each blow, D'Argo silently revenged his wrongs and congratulated himself on ridding the galaxy of another black clad tyrant. But then Aeryn's face came to mind. What if she were one of those he might have to fight? This thought had not occurred to D'Argo. Steadfastly, he raised his hand to strike her anyway, as a warrior should. But the strength left him, or the cold grew too strong. D'Argo let his arm drop, the blade's tip resting quietly on the floor.  
Zhaan sighed, rubbing her shoulders through the blanket draped over her. Standing outside of D'Argo's cell, she had come for talk but hearing that D'Argo already had a dialogue going with his instrument, she opted to listen silently. The rhythms of Luxan music were more predictable, she felt, and lacked the subtlety of Delvian works. But still, though bombastic and powerful, any music was still a welcome gift and Zhaan was grateful for it. Hearing the music stop, Zhaan glanced into D'Argo's cell and then looked up, catching a bit of shadow pass over the vent. She shook her head. As useful as Chiana's talents were at times, someone would need to talk to her about it her recent bad habit of spying. Zhaan only hoped she would have the chance. The time for Moya's starburst could not be far off, Zhaan decided. So she decided to go to Command and see how things were progressing. John was there, alone, monitoring the sensors. Zhaan was concerned for John. Aeryn's departure had left him sad, as it had everyone. But John had been closer to Aeryn than anyone. He did not want to talk about her leaving, and D'Argo and Zhaan had given him the room he seemed to need. Chiana and Rygel, self preoccupied as ever, didn't even seem to notice, or care, which also served this end. Arriving in Command, Zhaan found John still staring at the viewscreen, which was exactly where he'd been when she'd left him. His face looked stretched and cold. He offered neither complaint or comment as Zhaan entered.  
"How is John Crichton?"  
"We'll be able to starburst soon. Pilot's even managed to charge the shields. Hopefully we won't have to test them under fire."  
"I wasn't asking about the ship, John. I meant, how are you doing," she replied, gently insisting that he consider his own feelings.  
"I know what you meant, Zhaan."  
He was staring out the viewport, at the Peacekeeper ship. His thoughts were nowhere on Moya. They had traveled the distance and were nearer to someone who was now just a memory.  
"She's where she belongs, John. You should be glad for her. I hope we will all be as lucky someday."  
"Sure," John reluctantly agreed. After a long silence, he asked, "Do you think she's happy, Zhaan?" John continued to stare at those sensors displays that had not been turned off.  
Zhaan paused to consider the question. "I don't think that Peacekeepers truly understand what happiness is. But I think that Aeryn is where she wants to be. She was born into that world, John. It's all she ever really knew until she came here." Zhaan paused for a moment of reflection and added, "You might think me strange after all we've been through, but sometimes I wonder..." She stopped.  
"What?"  
"So many cycles have passed to stand between what we are and what we were. I have this fear sometimes that I will return to my home and find I don't belong there anymore. Do you ever have this feeling, John?"  
Zhaan thought he might. Crichton's experience with the last wormhole, the false promise of home - it had changed him a bit, made him doubt himself and his convictions in his fellow humans.  
Crichton's paused to think about his answer before speaking. Truth was, he didn't know what he was feeling. "I have to hope not, Zhaan. And, for Aeryn's sake, I hope you're wrong and that she can fit in again."  
Zhaan nodded. "Yes, but of all our cultures, Peacekeepers are the least tolerant of differences."  
Something in the way that Zhaan said this made John feel uneasy, apprehensive. He stared at the screen, at the Peacekeeper ship. - wondering about Aeryn, trying to imagine what she was doing just at that moment.  


Aeryn ducked. A blaster round just missed her head. It blew a hole in the wall behind her. Bits of razor sharp shards flew outward from the explosion. Aeryn's suit hissed for a moment from leaking air where the shards had cut them. But the suit sealed in a few microns. The misses were proving to be nearly as dangerous as the hits.  
"We're cut off!" Raz reported. "That way is blocked as well."  
Aeryn signaled for everyone to pull back into a tighter group. Ringed as they were, their firepower could form a wall that none of the Vl'gani warriors or workers could get through. Aeryn had seen the ambush coming and had pulled her team back, nearly in time. Then the Vl'gani had struck, coming at them in waves. The Peacekeepers had cut them down, but had lost two of their own in the fight. In the current lull, the Peacekeepers were stacking dead Vl'gani as a barrier to block the Vl'gani blasters.  
Aeryn looked around, trying to see if there was some tactical advantage she could gain from the terrain. But her trained assessement was not optimistic. They had been forced to retreat into a chamber without any obvious exits other than those occupied by the enemy. Fortunately for them, many of the attacking Vl'gani were only workers. These so far lacked blasters, though they were dangerous at close range with their fast stabbing claws and tentacles. Other than for a strange assortment of large fluted ornaments draped from the ceiling - perhaps some sort of food, Aeryn could see nothing remarkable that would be of any use.  
Aeryn decided it was necessary to go to open channel. She would have to contact the marauder. There was a small chance her reserve could organize a rescue to pull them out - or to at least they could signal the _Reyahko_ and let them know of the situation. But Private Wehca shook his head after trying several times to communicate. Nothing was getting through. Either the material of the ship, the dead alien bodies that were used to construct it, was not as reflective as Aeryn had hoped - or the signal was being blocked.  
"Down!" Aeryn yelled, falling back as one of the Vl'gani jumped over the bodies of two that had just dropped in front of it. The Peacekeepers hit the deck of the alien ship, ducking underneath the Vl'gani's razor sharp legs. Aeryn dropped to her back and fired upward, blowing out the alien's midsection until it dropped into two distinct pieces. Several of her shots, having penetrated the disintegrating alien, impacted on the ceiling, igniting one of the strange nest like ornaments and blasting another one clear of its mooring. A strange sort of screaming erupted from the burning ornament. It writhed around, obviously alive for a moment before it vented a liquid that ignited. The ornament fell to the floor in a sheet of flames, narrowly missing the Peacekeepers. The other ornament, blown clear, landed near one of Aeryn's boots. She could see that a hook had suspended it into the biomatter of the ceiling and that her rifle had shot away half of this anchor. When Aeryn picked the thing up by its narrow neck, the thing moved. It was definitely alive. She shook it and saw that several thousand creatures, vaguely resembling moon shrimp, were swimming inside of a pinkish liquid. Whenever she turned the sack-like object, they would swim for her face, as if drawn to it. They didn't look big enough to be food for the large Vl'gani. Aeryn wondered what they could be.  
"What is that?" Private Zoma asked, equally fascinated.  
"I don't know," Aeryn admitted.  
Raz called to her, interrupting the examination. "Officer Sun. You'd better have a look at this."  
Aeryn did. A single small Vl'gani, half of Aeryn's height, and of a type they'd never seen before, was approaching. It's claw-tipped tentacles, all four of them, were held aloft as if to signal that it carried no weapon.  
"Raz leveled her rifle, intending to shoot the creature.  
"Don't," Aeryn told her. "Let's see what it has to say."  
The creature had strange eyeslits that were like oily liquid in bulbous sacks. It regarded them with an inscrutable face as it turned to each of them, trying to measure what, to it, must have been equally alien visages.  
It clicked and made humming noises with the plates that served it for a mouth. "Which of you is leader?" the microbes translated, unable to totally masque the true noises the alien made.  
None of the Peacekeepers answered.  
"We offer," the alien told them. "We offer."  
"What do you offer?" Aeryn asked it.  
The alien turned to Aeryn, studying her, and observing the fluted thing she was carrying. "My spawn," it told her. "We will trade you your lives for the nest."  
"Are you the leader here?" Aeryn asked it.  
"No, I am only a drone. The Rayna, she listens through me. As you speak, she can hear you."  
Aeryn had already surmised that the nest and those like it had great value to the Vl'gani.  
"Target the nests above us," she told her troops. "But don't fire until I give the word."  
"No!" the drone protested. "We offer. We offer."  
"I'm listening," Aeryn told it, waving the nest in front of it.  
"You can leave."  
"It's offering to let us go," Raz said. "Can we trust it?"  
"Trust? What is trust?" the drone asked.  
Aeryn had no intention of throwing her advantage away to trust an alien who didn't have the word in its vocabulary. "Let me talk to my ship," she demanded.  
"No," the alien told her. "You go. Leave the nest."  
Aeryn fired up at the ceiling, narrowly missing another nest. Aeryn waited. Her meaning was clear.  
"I've got the marauder," Wehca announced. "They were attacked by the Vl'gani but they fought them off. They had to take off, but are flying nearby." The private appraised the three Peacekeepers onboard the marauder of their own situation. They in turn must have been telling him something because he just listened without replying. It seemed hard that any situation could be worse than their own, but seeing the look on Wehca's face, Aeryn didn't doubt it for a micron."  
"The Vl'gani, they've overrun the _Reyahko_. There's fighting onboard - heavy damage. The ship can't save us."  
Aeryn turned to the Vl'gani drone. "How could you get onboard the our ship?"  
The microbes didn't disguise the genuine enjoyment of the Vl'gani. "Stupid Peacekeeper. The attack on the cargo ship was a ruse to cover our true target. What you considered debris was our workers drifting toward your ship. They prepared a portal so that the warriors could follow. Now that we have control of your ship's power, we shall dine well on Peacekeeper. We shall feed on your dreams until they are our own."  
Then the drone paused. Perhaps it realized that too much bad news would not bode well for its spawn.  
"But you will live. You have a ship. You can depart."  
"Leave your communications open," Aeryn told her squad. "Wehca, tell the marauder to come pick the rest of you up."  
"Officer Sun? What about you?" Zoma asked her.  
"I'm staying here. We can't trust the Vl'gani. They're only waiting for us to leave this nest chamber before they attack. But if one of us stays behind, then they'll have to let you go or risk loosing their nests."  
"I'll stay," Raz told her.  
"I'm not asking for volunteers, Sergeant. You go."  
"Sir, if it's all the same to you, I'm rather tired of loosing commanders. I'll stay with you then."  
Aeryn shook her head. "No, I want you to go. That's an order."  
Raz obviously wanted to say something, but changed her mind. She took over the team, signalling them to retreat back to where the marauder had dropped them. Just before she disappeared, she turned and saluted Aeryn.  
Aeryn nodded back.  
It took some time, but Aeryn finally got the signal from Raz.  
"We're clear, Officer Sun. What are your orders?"  
"Head back to the _Reyahko_," she told them. "See if you can help."  
Aeryn turned back to the Vl'gani drone.  
"Others are gone. You will give me my spawn." Several Vl'gani warriors started to move in the background. Each of them was armed and ready to attack. Aeryn turned to the drone and smiled. It reacted by pulling back. Sebacean smiles didn't seem very pleasing to it, Aeryn thought with amusement.  
"Not just yet," she told it. "Now I want you to pull your aliens off of the Peacekeeper ship. Bring them back. My people go home. You go home. No one wins. No one looses."  
The drone paused, as if listening to some unseen dialogue. "No," he told Aeryn. "We'll leave you the small ship you came in. The other two large ships are ours."  
Aeryn gestured with her rifle to the nests above her, but the drone was unaffected.  
"You can kill maybe two, three nests. Then you'll die. Sad to loose spawn, but more can be made. A few nests are not worth your ship."  
As if expecting this answer, Aeryn pulled Rygel's Hynerian luckstone from her pocket. She held it in front of the drone so he could see it.  
"What is that?" he asked, rising to the bait.  
"This is a compacted thermal charge. All I have to do is squeeze it in my hand hard enough, and it will explode. It will destroy this entire room, and anything in it - including _all_ of your nests." She told her lie with a straight face. Anyone looking at her would have a hard time believing anything else.  
"But you'll die!" the Vl'gani told her.  
Aeryn nodded. "I'm a Peacekeeper. I am a trained warrior. I know how to die. Do you?" She held up her fist holding the luckstone. "Choose," she demanded. "My ship, or your spawn."

"John, what's happening?" Zhaan asked, seeing the puzzled look on his face.  
"I have no idea," he admitted. "Pilot? Can you tell me what's going on?"  
Pilot's face winked into view inside the comm shell. "Several hundred small alien craft have left the Peacekeeper carrier heading back towards the Vl'gani ship. Several thousand more aliens are leaving without any ship. They seem to be just drifting in pace, or are being towed by the ships. I am reading severe damage to the Peacekeeper ship. Its power readings are very low. Its weapons' systems are off-line."  
"Anything else?" John asked.  
"Only that we are ready to starburst," Pilot announced this with as little fanfare and reaction as he'd given all other information.  
"We can leave," Zhaan sighed in relief. She touched John's shoulder, and gave him a half smile. "Thank the goddess for good fortune."  
Pilot's face turned in the comm shell. He appeared to be looking at something else.  
"What is it, Pilot?" John asked him.  
"I have an open communication coming from the alien ship. It's directed at the Peacekeeper carrier. I think it's something that might interest you, John Crichton."  
"Can you patch it in?" John asked.  
"Yes, I think so."  
A familiar voice was heard over the speaker cell.  
"Have all the aliens left the _Reyahko?_ And has my marauder arrived safely?"  
"That's Aeryn!" John declared.  
Another voice answered her. "Yes to both, Lieutenant. I don't know how you did it, but - well done."  
"That voice sounds like that Peacekeeper captain," Zhaan added.  
D'Argo strode into Command. "Pilot tells me we are ready to starburst. It is time we left this place," he demanded.  
"In a moment, D'Argo," Zhaan said. "Aeryn Sun is on the alien ship. We've just intercepted a communication. She might be in trouble."  
D'Argo didn't say anything. He joined John and Zhaan in listening in. More dialogue occurred between the Captain and Aeryn, overhead by those eavesdropping on Moya.  
"The Vl'gani appear to be repairing their ship. They have main guns but it'll be some time before they're ready to go anywhere. How's the _Reyahko_?"  
"It's badly damaged. But it's maneuverable. We can get underway in just a few microns. But the Vl'gani severely damaged our main armament before they left. They didn't want us coming after them, I think. However, they didn't count on our marauders and prowlers. Most of them are intact."  
"Sir, I recommend that you get under way as soon as possible - before they can come after you again. I can't hold them forever."  
"Well get under way as soon as we've collected you, Lieutenant. I'm sending the marauders out now to bring you back. Once they have you, and that leviathan has been neutralized, we can all go home."  
After hearing that last comment about being neutralized, D'Argo turned to the others. "I think it's time to leave."  
"Why haven't we left yet?" Rygel asked, hovering into view. "Pilot says we can starburst anytime we want. What are we waiting for?"  
"Moya is still there?"  
Hearing Aeryn's voice over the comm, Rygel buried the question he was going to ask. Instead he commented, "That sounded like Aeryn Sun." Everyone ignored Rygel, concentrating on what was being said between the two Peacekeepers.  
"Not for long," the Captain told her. "We'll destroy it before we go."  
Zhaan whispered to Crichton. "John, we have starburst. We have to go - while the Peacekeepers are distracted. The Peacekeepers will take care of Aeryn."  
There was a pause.  
"Are you still there, Officer Sun?"  
"Yes, Sir. Sir, with respect, I request that you leave Moya unharmed."  
"Don't be impertinent, Lieutenant. We cannot let the Vl'gani capture biomechanoid technology."  
"Sir, the prisoners have been released. The Vl'gani will not be able to use Moya. I can hold them until she leaves. There's no reason to destroy her now."  
John felt a cold chill over his heart. Aeryn had just committed suicide.  
"What did you say?!" The shock in the woman's voice was obvious.  
"I believe that you heard me correctly, Sir. With respect, you must leave."  
"Just so I have the record straight for your trial, Lieutenant, how do you propose to force us to do that?"  
"I am holding the Vl'gani nesting chamber hostage. If I release my hold on them, there's nothing to prevent the Vl'gani from coming back to the _Reyahko_. You're going to have to leave me behind, Captain. And you're going to have to let Moya go."  
"Lieutenant, I'm going to forget everything you've just said. You just hold tight and we'll come to collect you. The temperature must have gotten to you. You're obviously suffering from some sort of heat delirium."  
"No Sir. I am not."  
"But we are your people, Aeryn."  
"I know."  
"Aeryn, you have a reprieve. Crais can't hurt you. You have a life ahead of you. Don't waste it like this. You don't have to run anymore."  
"I'm not running, Captain." There was a pause. "I am sorry. I must be a great disappointment to you."  
"Disappointment is not the word. But, Aeryn, you are not my daughter. The genetic tests have confirmed this. Nonetheless, I value you as a fine Peacekeeper. You've done wonders. One last time, give this up. Say the word, and I will not abandon you."  
"Thank you, Captain. I'm sorry it ended like this."  
"So am I," those on Moya heard the Captain admit. "You've made a strange choice, Aeryn Sun. May you die well."  
Pilot interrupted. "The Peacekeeper carrier is powering its engines. It's starting to leave."  
John ran off.  
"Where are you going?" D'Argo asked him.  
"Farscape 1. I'm going after Aeryn," he yelled back. "I'll be right back!"  
"Crichton! Crichton, come back here!" D'Argo yelled after him, but John had already disappeared.  
"What do we do now?" Zhaan asked D'Argo.  
D'Argo looked at her and just shook his head."

"Are the charges primed?"  
"Charges primed, Captain," Orlac answered. Orlac was now acting second.  
"So, you're going to destroy the leviathan?" Vykir asked her.  
Thus far Vykir had offered no comment, just watching Aeryn. Aeryn doubted that she would find much approval and forgiveness in Vykir for allowing her ship to have been mauled by the Vl'gani. Truth was, they had been complacent, having grown used to easy victories. Had it not been for the actions of Lieutenant Sun, all of them would be dead, or worse, Vl'gani captives.  
"Yes," the Captain nodded. "Lieutenant Sun took the guards with her. I think I know why now. She doesn't know about the charges though."  
"And what of Aeryn herself?" Vykir asked. "What are you thinking?"  
"Once the _Reyahko_ is safely out of range of the Vl'gani, I'm sending the marauders back to fetch her. She will have to face trial for her actions."  
Lieutenant Sun had not only saved the ship, but she had most graciously put herself in harms way and would be dead soon. Turan Vykir could not let such a beautiful ending to his dilemma be spoiled by a trial - and a possible revelation about his involvement.  
"She disobeyed your orders. She's a traitor. You have every right to execute her - immediately," Vykir pointed out.  
"She saved this ship, my Lord. She saved you as well, twice I might add. Though the outcome will be the same, I have no wish to have Lieutenant Sun's blood on my hands. Justice will be better served by others."  
Vykir breathed in deeply and exhaled. Aeryn did not realize that it was her own death sentence she was passing. He couldn't let her bring Lieutenant Sun back onboard if her intent was a trial. It was a shame to waste the life of his handpicked veteran captain; but Vykir would not fall over this incident. His assassins would be given their orders and he himself would assume command.  
"Captain?" Orlac intruded upon their conversation. "The leviathan has powered up and is approaching the Vl'gani ship. A small craft has left it and is also heading for the alien."  
Aeryn's hand remained paused over the detonation switch. She watched the leviathan moved closer to the crippled Vl'gani warship. The fact that the leviathan crew was free did not surprise her much, given Lieutenant Sun's history. What did surprise her was what the prisoners were doing with that dear bought freedom. Instead of trying to escape, as she would have in their place, they were moving into harms way.  
"Are they mad?" she asked, Vykir. "What are they doing?"  
"I think they're trying to save her," he said. "A mark of lesser races, don't you think?"  
Aeryn's hand stayed over the detonators. She struggled with several thoughts racing through her. Not that it mattered much in the scheme of things, but perfect order required that she destroy the leviathan. She would remove it, any evidence of their pursuit of Crais, and all the escaped prisoners with one fell action. But then, insane as it was - they might actually succeed in rescuing Lieutenant Sun - all the more reason for her to destroy them.  
"Captain, your orders?" Orlac asked.  
Aeryn removed her hand, and deactivated the detonators. Vykir saw her do it but said nothing.  
"Get us out of here," Lieutenant. I want us light years from this spot. And tell the tech crews to start immediate repairs."  
As the _Reyahko_ backed away from the scene, Aeryn thought about the woman onboard the Vl'gani ship, the one who'd rejected her and yet who'd saved her nonetheless. The question that kept running through her mind was, what would she have done in young Aeryn's place? There was no way of answering this question. - Aeryn shook her head to clear her thoughts and put the past behind her. The past was dead. Only the moment mattered. As it was, there was not much future to look forward to either. Vykir was keen to remind her of this.  
"Letting her go, Captain? I don't suppose she'll live much longer anyway, but why?"  
Aeryn wasn't really sure. Her career was in ruins. Her ship was a shambles. Vykir had warned her of the consequences of failing to capture Crais. And she had no doubts of what was waiting for her once they crossed the perimeter. Given all that, she felt she could afford a little honesty at this point.  
"As you said once before, my Lord, who knows what choices either of us would have made in her place. She did what she did with honor - and she remained true to her convictions. We, this ship, none of us would be here if it were not for her. I know that gratitude has no place in Sebacean philosophy, but maybe it does in mine."  
Aeryn swiveled to face Lord Turan Vykir.  
"But when this does come to trial, I will be very explicit about your involvement in Lieutenant Sun's initial pardon. I do fear, my Lord, that neither of us will come out of this looking very well." Aeryn knew that Vykir's political rivals would use this to tear him to pieces. It gave her some satisfaction to know that, with luck, she wouldn't be the only one facing downfall and ruin.  
"Are you threatening me, Captain?"  
"No, my Lord. I never make a threat when a promise will suffice."  
Vykir lowered his head and gave a knowing nod. "Captain, what would you think if I were to suggest that we never met Officer Aeryn Sun?"  
Aeryn thought about this. He was offering her a deal.  
"It would smooth out some rough areas in my report. I might have less questions to answer when we get back."  
Turan Vykir scratched his chin. With all of the recent events, he had forgotten to shave.  
"You would do this?" Aeryn asked.  
Vykir nodded. "It's time to head back to drydock," he announced. "We need to effect repairs. Of course, if you are cooperative about my version of events onboard, I can have your ship reassigned to a different sector - your choice. Another crew can continue the chase."  
"My Lord, if you are offering what I think you are, with your indulgence, I choose to come back. I've never failed a mission. I wish us to finish what we've started."  
"I chose well when I chose you, Captain."  
What neither of them mentioned was that Aeryn's own career would rise and not fall. With Vykir's complicity, the records would indicate that Aeryn's crew had fought a desperate action against an overwhelming enemy. There would be no mention of a chance rescue by an outcast Peacekeeper and a mob of escaped prisoners. The other Aeryn might also have another chance, assuming she survived. Any other Peacekeepers not of Crais' ship, would know nothing about her history, her genetics. As for the recent incidents of the last few days - officially they would never have happened.  
Vykir smiled the smile of a predator having eaten of a fine small kill. He was satisfied - for the moment. He hadn't captured Crais. But that would come in time. Aeryn Sun would not rest until she had that rogue in chains. She wasn't the resting type. Of course, he could have just had Aeryn "removed" when she threatened to expose him. But the truth was that he too could feel gratitude - when it was convenient to his purposes. And waste of good officers like Aeryn was criminal to him if it could be avoided. He would let her think that she had taken the upper hand, when all along he had been the one who was in control. Such empty victories were useful. They caused opponents to overstep themselves with confidence so that Vykir could trip them up all the more easily at a later time.  
Vykir thought about Lieutenant Sun's genetic report, buried in the deep recesses of his secret files. He really wanted to reveal to Aeryn the full truth of that scan. With Lieutenant Sun gone, there didn't seem to be much danger. But such a revelation would also reveal how he had manipulated the truth. And since he did not think that Aeryn would be very appreciative of this point, Vykir decided to keep the report to himself. If he ever needed it, it would be there.  
"I was just thinking of the other Aeryn Sun," Vykir told Aeryn. The look in Aeryn's eyes told Vykir that she had been as well. "Despite all that happened, I was very impressed with her. Do you agree?"  
Aeryn thought about this. She chose not to answer Vykir's question directly. "If you will excuse me, my Lord. I have to make some corrections to my reports concerning the last few days. I find there are numerous errors."  
Vykir waved his permission for her to depart. He smiled. There just might be hope for Aeryn yet.

Aeryn had come back to the breach in the Vl'gani ship. Workers, immune to the vacuum dogged her every step while she held onto the nest of unborn spawn. Encased in the sac, the small free swimming embryos seemed to be unharmed by their sojourn in vacuum They still insisted on swimming close as possible to Aeryn. It was strange to think of such harmless and tiny creatures one day becoming the hideously fierce Vl'gani. The aliens were patient, waiting for her to fall asleep or trip, and then they would be upon her. Of course, they assumed that she would use her thermal charge first. But as long as there was a chance at saving the nest, they were willing to wait - relieved that she had finally left the main breeding chamber.  
For her part, Aeryn doubted that she could continue the charade much longer. The Vl'gani were already acting as if they were suspicious. So she decided to leave the nest chamber. When they came for her, she wished to die fighting, in view of the stars she'd been born under. Looking up, she saw that one of the stars was moving - very fast. It was coming right at her.  
Vl'gani ships guns opened up but the small craft dodged them, hurtling in with reckless speed. Aeryn looked at the Vl'gani. Had the Captain called her bluff and come for her anyway? Her first thoughts were of Moya - and those aboard her. Aeryn pulled back and held the luckstone up for the Vl'gani to see.  
"Get back!" she told them. None of them moved. They started to inch forward. She held up her rifle to the nest and only then did they back off.  
The ship, having dodged the large guns, careened in, buzzing the Vl'gani workers and sending them scattering. Farscape 1 landed. John, dressed in his astronaut suit, popped the hatch and stood up.  
"Anytime you're ready, Aeryn!" his radio clicked.  
She didn't hesitate. Tossing the nest, she hopped in behind John. He closed the hatch, just in time. A worker latched itself to the bubble, starting to scratch and tear at it. Other workers jumped for the shuttle, even as it roared off, blasting a number of them in its wake. When the worker riding Farscape looked up, the last thing it saw was a jagged piece of its own ship's wreckage coming right for its head as John barely skimmed the hole leading out of the ship.  
"That was rather impressive," Aeryn admitted, looking back to see the bits of Vl'gani worker flying in every direction. "You've gotten better."  
"Slicker than snot," John agreed.  
"What are you doing here?" she finally asked him. "How did you know I was on that ship?"  
"I'm saving your sweet little ass," he told her. "You can thank me and ask questions later."  
A nearby explosion tossed them both, bumping their heads on the secured hatch.  
"I'll thank you when we're safe and away from here," she told him dryly.

The Farscape module hurtled through space. Just as it neared Moya, the Vl'gani guns, having locked onto the leviathan, opened up.  
"Now, Pilot!" D'Argo ordered.  
The shields harvested from the Zalbinion miraculously engaged, just as Farscape passed their perimeter. The Vl'gani guns could not penetrate the powerful shields. D'Argo could only imagine what they must be thinking onboard the alien ship.  
"Crichton's shuttle has landed," Chiana announced.  
Zhaan nodded, smiling. "Pilot, move us away from the Vl'gani ship. And then, starburst please."  
"With pleasure!" Pilot replied.  
Moya moved quickly away as the shields faded. The Vl'gani, perhaps stunned as D'Argo had suggested, offered no withering fire. Moya's hull flickered as energy danced in powerful lines culminating at her tail. In a burst of light and energy, she was gone into hyperspace.

**Epilogue**

"It brought me great luck. I couldn't have survived without it," Aeryn told Rygel, crediting his luckstone with having saved her life. She held it up for everyone to see. "You wouldn't know it, but this little rock terrified the Vl'gani and held them at bay, keeping them from attacking me."  
"It did?" He seemed genuinely surprised. Reaching out, Rygel quickly snatched it from her hand. "Well, it must be worth something after all," he said, offering no apology for taking it back. "Thank you, for holding it for me," he smiled.  
"Why you little runt of a spiny rockhopper!" Aeryn protested.  
"I'll get it back for you," Chiana told Aeryn.  
"No you won't!" Rygel said, clutching the rock to his chest like it was his own dear child.  
D'Argo, Zhaan, and Chiana, who were eating with Aeryn, laughed. As her shock subsided, Aeryn did too. Everyone was warm, safe for the moment, and glad to be so. The DRDs had discovered all the demolition charges, which had since been removed. The crew had assumed these had been faulty in some way, since they were all still alive. Other than for a few nicks from the battles onboard, there was nothing but memories to remind them of their ordeal.  
"What was it like?" Zhaan asked her, "Being home again?"  
"It was strange. I kept on thinking it was a dream, and that I would awake and find myself on Moya. Just like I used to think that I was in a dream when I first came here."  
"What was it like when you thought you had found your mother?" Chiana asked her.  
"Well other than the fact that she wasn't my mother, when she thought she might be, at first she hated me. But for a time at the end, it was sort of nice to imagine having come from someone. It made me feel like I was a part of something larger than myself - sort of like unit loyalty, but more personal. I guess I understand a little more why most of you want to get back to your families."  
Zhaan put her hand onto Aeryn's and squeezed.  
"Well, I'll just be glad to get back to normal," D'Argo admitted. "And Crichton for a change can stop his incessant moping."  
Aeryn looked around, having expected to see John come in for dinner by now.  
Pilot's face winked into the comm shell.  
"Welcome back, Aeryn Sun. And Moya welcomes you back."  
Aeryn touched her head. Moya's hormones had taken another shift. "I can't hear Moya's thoughts anymore. How is she feeling?"  
"Relieved," Pilot told her. "And she wishes to tell you that she feels it wasn't the same here without you."  
"Thank her, for me," Aeryn told him. "Where's Crichton?" she asked the others.  
"Where do you expect," Chiana said, munching a food cube. "He's working on that ship of his."  
Aeryn excused herself and headed down for the hanger. D'Argo had brought out his instrument and was playing it with gusto. Though the laughing voices from the galley were fading, not so the music. Pilot apparently liked it well enough to pipe it over Moya's systems. Aeryn walked briskly down through the leviathan, descending farther into her depths until she had come to the broad sweeping expanse of the hanger. Dwarfed by the leviathan pods and Aeryn's own prowler, John was there working on his shuttle. His butt and legs danced to the rhythms of Luxan music, which could be heard playing softly on the speakers, while his front half was firmly buried inside the shuttle.  
John popped his head up from Farscape 1 and saw that Aeryn was leaning on her prowler, observing him keenly.   
"Hey. What brings you down here? I thought you'd be at the party. Sounds like D'Argo's kickin up a pretty wild shindig with that shilquen thing."  
"I wanted to thank you."  
John turned back to his adjustment. "It's nothing, Aeryn. You saved us too, remember?"  
"Also, I thought you could use a hand," she offered, nodding at Farscape and all the tools spread about. "I'd hate to see you get lost in that thing and never find your way out of it again."  
"Very funny," Crichton said, popping his head back up. He propped himself on Farscape with his arms folded.  
"I don't know," he said, pretending to be suspicious of Aeryn's abilities. "I need someone trained, someone who knows a doohicky from a thingofamajig from a whatzit. Do you think you're qualified?"  
"I have had some experience," Aeryn dryly replied.  
"All right, show me a doohickey."  
Aeryn picked up the microwelder.  
"No, that's a doolywop, Aeryn." John shook his head and laughed at her. "You're gone for just a little while, and you forget everything you've learned. Would you like to try an easier test?" he offered, trying very badly to sound kind.  
She held up the microwelder, scowling at it. "But this_ is_ a doohickey," she insisted. "I know it is!"  
John just shook his head, with a mocked look of concern on his face. "That's a doolywop," he assured her.  
Scowling, she looked around and picked up a harmonic isolator.  
"This, then?"  
"Close, but that's actually the other doolywop. Do you want to give up?"  
That was like challenging her to a fight. She offered him a sensor panel display plate - her face a total question.  
He shook his head. "Thingofamajig." He clucked his tongue in disapproval. "I'm kind of worried about you Aeryn. I wonder if being around those other Peacekeepers dulled your memory a bit. I mean, Peacekeepers aren't exactly the tallest candles on the cake, if you know what I mean."  
Totally confused, she scowled, trying to decide on the right answer. Each time she thought about it, her hand drifted back to her first choice, the microwelder.  
She looked at John, trying to steal a clue from his face. Seeing her expression, the serious look on his face evaporated and he burst into laughter.  
"I had you there!" he cackled. Obviously he was enjoying poking fun at one of the galaxy's master race. But she wasn't smiling. "You were right the first time. I just had to pull your leg."  
She didn't say anything at first. He saw Aeryn pick up a gelid injection gland.  
"Aeryn! What are you doing?" he asked, backing up while she advanced on him. "Cmon, I was kidding. Aeryn, don't! That crap really stinks!" he pleaded with her to no avail.  
The DRD observing all this transmitted the image to Pilot. Pilot directed the DRD elsewhere, hoping to give the pair some privacy. Still, he could hear what they were saying in the background. As Moya glided through space en route to their next destination, the only sound to be heard in Pilot's Den, above D'Argo's gentle playing, was that of John Crichton, yelling, "Aeryn! It'll take me a weak to get this dren out of my hair!"  
Life onboard was finally back to normal.

**Prologue**_ -_ _(This section, though developed for the story, was too long to include in the main text. It was finished in order to develop aspects of the aliens, Peacekeeper culture, and the characters of Aeryn and Vykir. It is included here only for those who wish to delve further into aspects of the story well outside of the current canon.- Solanio)_

"What did you say they are called?"  
"Peacekeepers," the drone dutifully answered his Rayna. "According to one of the captives from the planet, these are the mercenaries that we were told about - the ones who were hired to protect this system. They are greatly feared by the inhabitants."  
Jza'han, Rayna to the Horde, scoffed at this revelation while continuing to regard the view of the ship on her small oval monitor. Wherever the Vl'gani Horde had appeared, they had taught the indigenous a new definition of fear. Peacekeepers - Jza'han reflected upon the name while she examined the ship. Though it was as massive as a Vl'gani tribal transport, the huge Peacekeeper ship appeared on her monitor only as a small grain of darkness against the blue-white backdrop of the system's largest sun. View filters had been set to maximum but even now, the brightness of the sun still hurt her eyes. Meanwhile, scores of her tactical drones busied themselves, ready to advise her while assessing damage to the Horde ships. Silent and reserved, they waited for Jza'han's next command - most of them anyway.  
Romaq. who was surprisingly forthright for a drone, approached Jza'han. His body assumed the typical gestures of supplication but his eyes told Jza'han that he was eager for the kill and was frustrated by the Rayna's failure to give the order.  
"May I remind, the Rayna, that we continue to suffer losses from the enemy's long range weapons while it stays well out of our own range. I strongly suggest a close assault to bridge the gap. Once our heavy weapons are brought to bear, we will destroy the intruders' ship. As deep as they are in the sun's gravity well, they are sluggish and will not have enough time to escape."  
"I have examined this solution already," the Rayna reminded her drone, "Only by sending in half of the entire Horde will we have enough firepower to do this quickly enough. Can you give me a ninety-eight percent probability of destroying the enemy and having enough time to retreat from the Sun's gravity before radiation becomes lethal?"  
"My Rayna," Romaq assured her, "I give you one hundred percent assurance. All our simulations indicate that with so much firepower, the enemy's defenses will crumble in less than ten ticks. We will loose no more than two ships. And our fleet will be outside of the sun's radiation belt in so small a fraction of the time we could remain there - that this factor is hardly worth mentioning."  
"You have done well, Romaq," the Rayna stated. "If this attack goes as you have said, I will allow you to fertilize my next cluster as your reward. Who knows? Perhaps one cycle, one of your own spawn might rule as Rayna."  
She nodded for Romaq to leave before he could embarrass them both by any surprised obsequiousness. Though she would breed with him, Jza'han had no intention of allowing any of Romaq's spawn to live through the culling, despite her implied promise. His thinking was just a bit too independent for a drone. Though she hated to waste the eggs, breeding was still a valuable reward. It kept the drones competitive and at peak performance; and it gave them something to hope for.  
Jza'han turned her attention once more back to the Peacekeeper ship. It had appeared out of nowhere, probably hiding behind one of the massive rogue asteroids that this system was so rich in. Heavily armed and armored, and surprisingly fast for its size, it had arrogantly blasted it's way right through the heart of the Horde fleet while the Vl'gani were busy bombarding the sixth planet into submission. It had been an incredibly brave and yet stupid thing to do. Though superior in shields to any of the Vl'gani ships, the Peacekeeper had taken heavy damage and had now retreated dangerously close to one of the system's two suns. Tactical reports indicated a high probability that the enemy was using their superior shielding to advantage, perhaps knowing that none of the Vl'gani ships could approach for more than a few ticks before sustaining lethal radiation. But then, those few ticks would be all they needed.  
Jza'han gave the order to attack and had it sent out to the Vl'gani fleet. Leaving just more than half of its number to guard against any more surprises, the rest of the Horde moved in like a pack of predators ready to rend a dying prey. Jza'han's ship stayed with the others in reserve, watching the spectacle unfold.

Officer Tyrn Vek tried to stay focused on the events around him. But the stifling heat was pressing in on his mind, crowding out all other thoughts in a hellish delirium brought on as his brain began to boil. For brief moments, he forgot where he was. Glimpses of his past came back in such vivid colours, that he thought they were real and that he was reliving them. But they would pass on and leave him stranded in the terrible moment of a terrible truth. He was on the brink of the Living Death - a catatonic nightmare of unending mental torture where the shredded memories of a lifetime merged and molded into insanity. The Commander had already succumbed after the environmentals had failed. The last enemy salvo had destroyed most of the ship's systems and had cut power to their shielding, opening the way for the sun's heat to blister their minds. And heat was ever and always the enemy of the Sebaceans, driving them in their past to seek the frozen comfort of deep space. Most of the crew were dead. What was left were only screaming mindless shells of what had once been Peacekeepers. As Vek tried to focus, he saw that there was only one task that still needed to be done. The entire command staff had been briefed by the Commander. The order had been clear. Now it had fallen to Officer Vek to carry it out.  
Staggering until he could no longer walk, and then finally crawling to the Commander's chair, Vek pushed the series of buttons that ejected the twin quantum drives and which then fired them into the sun. The ejection sequence had been engineered in order to save the ship in the event of overload. With luck though, it would now become both a weapon and salvation. Though the sun filled the viewscreen, it was still millions of metras away. It took several painful microns for the drives to near their destination. In those microns, Tyrn Vek ceased to be as his mind passed over into a screaming living decay. As the drives fell in towards the sun, their outer shielding bubbled away, revealing the naked microsingularities within. Tiny though they were, no larger than a few molecules really, the massive pull of the dark matter still caused a rupture in the sun's outer membrane, creating a huge solar flare. Caught as they were by the strength of the sun's gravity, the Vl'gani ships were sluggish and could not accelerate fast enough to escape. Larger in mass than ten thousand planets, an arm of the sun reached out to touch both the Peacekeeper ship and the Vl'gani horde. The Vl'gani and the Peacekeeper starcruiser were obliterated microns later as the escaping storm of light and instant oblivion engulfed them.

Jza'han watched disaster unfold, enraged, helpless, and frightened. Everywhere, drones were feeding her information. She tried to filter through it all and find a clear perception of what had gone wrong. - Apparently the Peacekeeper ship had fired something into the sun which had caused the solar flare. Knowing this helped nothing however. Jza'han had just witnessed the destruction of half of the Vl'gani Horde. As the flare expanded outwards, the remainder of the Horde now had to scatter for themselves to escape from the onrushing storm of radiation and superheated gasses that threatened to overwhelm them. To compound matters, the flare had wiped out all communication and had rendered sensors practically useless- and no improvement would be possible for several subcycles. Hopefully, Vl'gani training would hold true and the other ships would meet hers in rendezvous at the most populated planet. Until then, there was only one thing she could do.  
Jza'han signaled for two of her guard to approach. As they were her daughters as well, their loyalty was assured.  
"Take the drone, Romaq, away from here. See that he is prepared for the next meal. He will serve us this one last time."  
Jza'han closed her ears to Romaq's pleas for mercy as he was dragged away.

Having witnessed the death of over two thousand fellow peacekeepers, the remaining crew kept silent. It would be their comrades only epithet. The other crew was dead; and the dead were as nothing. But the sacrifice of the other ship had at least given them a fighting chance.  
"The solar flare has disrupted all communications and sensors, Commander. If the enemy uses similar technology, then theirs will be off-line as well."  
Lieutenant Scyn Orlac, having given her report, relaxed for a micron. So many thoughts were rushing through her mind. Most of them focused on the loss of the other Avenger, and those aboard it. Had chance gone another way, it would be her and her shipmates that would have faced the sacrifice. Given the distraction of combat, Orlac could abstractly wonder how she would have behaved, facing her own death - or worse.  
Commander Sun received the report without comment.  
"Was our communication to the Fleet sent before the solar eruption?" Sun asked her communication officer.  
"Yes, Commander," Orlac replied.  
It would be maybe five or six days for a force to muster and retake the system. What was left of Sun's command would probably not last five or six arns though. The Commander ordered her meager cadre of marauders to move out from the asteroid screen. She would have preferred fast prowlers, but she had none. She would use what she had. The enemy fleet was scattered and blind. The odds, though ultimately impossible, would be slightly in their favor until the effects of the flare subsided. If they picked their targets carefully, her Peacekeepers could inflict significant damage before the invaders even knew they were there. As Sun reviewed the last report before sensors had gone off-line, she marveled at the sheer number of enemy ships. There was no doubt in the Commander's mind, looking around at her bridge crew, what their ultimate end would be. But Peacekeepers were born to die. All of them knew this. Now it was left for them to make their deaths as costly as possible. The invaders would pause to lick their wounds, allowing sector forces to martial and then annihilate them.  
Sun cursed whatever fool had forced tribute on the Sorthan System, so far out from the perimeter. Her forces were only supposed to be on patrol in a quiet frontier sector, nursing their wounds from containment battles on the Illonic-Scorvian Front. Having fought to keep that war from spilling over, they would now die in another - to an unknown enemy. And their deaths were little more than a futile gesture, required to fulfill the tribute contract with the Sorthans. It was a matter of economics and honor.  
The marauders and the avenger began to stalk their quarry, using only visuals. Heavier armed, they were still slower than many of the strange enemy ships. They would have to be cautious lest they stirred up the nest all at once. Outmaneuvered and outnumbered, they would pick off the enemy one by one. That was the plan, anyway.

"I have them on visual," the drone reported. "They are signaling to us in the old manner - using ship lights."  
"Signal back," Jza'han commanded, relieved to see yet another Vl'gani cruiser reach the rendezvous. "Tell them to fall in as an escort."  
"They signal that they believe other enemy forces are in the area. They have encountered ships' debris and have seen signs of combat near the asteroid belt."  
A sudden terrible affirmation of this came as multiple explosions patterned the hull of the Vl'gani cruiser. The ship bloomed with intense eruptions of flames and outcast debris. In a matter of moments, the hull of the cruiser imploded and then the entire ship exploded, breaking into huge sections that continued to burn from the escaping atmosphere within.  
"We are under attack!" several of the drones reported. "We have a visual of another Peacekeeper ship off of our starboard aft side."  
"Turn the ship and bring the main guns to bear," Jza'han commanded. "Launch swarm fighters. Order the other ships to attack!"  
Jza'han's ship rocked as it faced incoming fire. Dull distant sounds reverberated through the hull, telling her that the enemy fire had pierced the shields, impacting the hull.

"Commander," Yuran Tor, the tactical offer reported, waving his hand to try and clear some of the smoke away. "We're inside the asteroid field again and we've moved out of range of the batteries of the larger ships; our secondary defense screen is gone and we cannot fend off any additional fighters. We have fifty-four percent casualties at last report. However, the effects of the flare are ending and communications are coming back online - somewhat spotty though given our damage. What are your orders?"  
"Send a coded signal in case any of the marauders survived to hide out in the asteroids. Perhaps they can prolong the hunt and preoccupy the enemy for a time. Then send another report to the fleet telling them...." Sun paused. "Tell them we died well."  
The tactics officer nodded.  
"Prepare to self-destruct," Sun told him. "Also, divert all remaining power to engines. If that carrier or any of the larger ships comes into range, I want to ram it and take it with us."  
"I don't know if we're going to get the chance, Commander," the tactical officer stated. He pointed at the main view screen. Several waves of enemy fighters were approaching the asteroid belt, ready to deliver the coup disgrace  
Sun stared stoically ahead. "We had a good day," she commented to Yuran, who was now acting second.  
For the first time, he saw her smile, her bright blue eyes seeming to lift the heaviness from the moment. Fear, it seemed, had no hold upon her.  
"Many kills," he agreed.  
"Commander," Orlac reported. "I see several dozen more fighters on my screen. They're approaching from behind, from inside the field, moving in very fast."  
"Where did they come from?" the tactical officer asked.  
Obviously it didn't matter. They were cut off. Sun swore a Sebacean obscenity under her breath, feverishly working the controls to engage the self-destruct. The new wave of fighters roared past the avenger and continued on, heading out of the asteroid field toward the other incoming fighters. It took a moment to register that they hadn't fired.  
Orlac shouted, "Commander, they're prowlers!"  
"Prowlers?" the tactical officer announced. "That's impossible! Prowlers don't have the range to have gotten here in time. That many prowlers would have to be based on a carrier - a command carrier. There are no command carriers in this sector."  
But despite the tactical officer's pronouncement, the new fighters immediately engaged the enemy. The avenger rocked from a nearby explosion. It wasn't a salvo aimed at them this time. Instead one of the nearby enemy cruisers blossomed in a quiet white light and then winked out of existence.  
Orlac bent her head, trying to listen to something over the static from her damaged speakers. She turned to the Commander and the Second.  
"Commander, Captain Bialar Crais sends you his greetings."

"Jza'han, former Rayna of the Horde of the Tribe of Gir, do you have anything to say as to the judgment of the Council of Daughters?"  
Jza'han stood, regarding the hundreds of faces around her, each one of them her offspring. They were gathered on one of the surviving tribal transports. The faces glaring down on her showed her no pity. To them, she was already gone. Their minds were focused instead on who it would be among them who would be the new Rayna. Jza'han had been judged unworthy by her own daughters, those that had survived. Now she must face the consequences.  
"I ask only for the right to be equal among you, and to have a chance to win my title back again."  
There was a murmur of voices and several clicks as her daughters registered their votes on the consoles in front of them.  
"One of them, her former favorite, Ja'lan, rose to announce the verdict.  
"This is denied to you, Jza'han. You are unworthy of what you ask. The truth is in the present moment. You have brought the Tribe of Gir near to its destruction. For this, we now send you into exile. You will be given one ship, whatever drones will have you, and your last unborn cluster. Found yourself a new, tribe if you can. Gir is no longer yours."  
"But there must be a test," Jza'han demanded. "By the old customs, anyone exiled is allowed one test. If I pass, then I can return to the tribe."  
There was more murmuring and clicks. Reading the results, Ja'lan rose again.  
"Jza'han, you have demanded the right of a test. Know now that your test is to bring back the head of the Peacekeeper commander who defeated you. Our spies on the Sorthan homeworld have sent information that will help you. It is somehow fitting in that the name of your enemy should be the hallmark of your disgrace."  
Ja'lan raised the blast shield of the transport, revealing the distant red orb of the nameless system they were hiding in.  
"The name of the Peacekeeper you must kill is Aeryn Sun."

Lord Turan Vykir, member of the Supreme Council, waited with his staff in the room that the Sorthans had appointed for them. He had already had most of the elaborate Sorthan furnishings removed. There was little he could do about the ornate stonework, short of destroying it. And the green and lush view of the city of Sor outside his window was necessary if only for the light. Still, he was not an unworldly man, as many Sebaceans were, growing up in colony ships without the appreciation of the finer things that other cultures were capable of. But this understanding was both unseemly and unwise to be displayed among his own people. He kept his secret well.  
Commander Aeryn Sun, her tactical officer, Yuran Tor, and the rest of her bridge staff were punctual, as they would be, being Peacekeepers. As Commander Sun saluted and stood to attention along with the rest of her crew, Turan took a moment to study her, trying to read in the lines of her scarred and worn face something of the woman's character. The grey streaks in her black hair were premature, judging by the data on her personnel records on the screen in front of him. Turan could see that the woman had once been very beautiful. Perhaps her spartan haircut was meant to hide this from those around her. The careworn face helped as well, but something about her bones still gave her face a regal air of command. It hardly seemed to matter. Unlike himself, most Peacekeepers regarded the ability to kill as the ultimate aphrodisiac. Lethality, not beauty, was the hallmark of desire. Turan continued to review the data sheet. Sun's crew was devoted to her - not uncommon in Peacekeeper Commanders.  
He got to the point. "Do you understand the charges against you?"  
"Yes, my Lord," she answered smartly. "I aided and abetted a..."  
"Stop!" Turan raised his hand. "As I said, you were not to mention the exact nature of the charges in front of your crew. Have you told them anything?"  
She shook her head. "No, my Lord. They are as ignorant as they are innocent of your charges." Her voice lowered a register and grew in volume as she said this last. Turan had to suppress a smile. He had chosen well. The Commander's spirit was pure fire.  
"Leave us," he told his staff. "Dismiss your crew, Commander."  
She nodded and her crew filed out dutifully, but sharing the confusion of Turan's staff judging by their eyes as they hazarded a few backward glances.  
"That was unwarranted, Commander. You almost told them."  
"I'm sorry, my Lord," Commander Sun replied, in a voice that was not quite sincere. "I only thought it fair that Peacekeepers who've fought honorably deserved to know the exact nature of the crimes they were charged with. A foolish notion, I know."  
Turan nodded. He indicated an empty chair.  
"Sit down, Commander."  
"I prefer to stand."  
Her eyes locked with his. Hers were deep blue, like the oceans of Relga 9. His were the grey of clouded obfuscation.  
"Commander, Peacekeeper justice is harsh. You've known that all your life. The fact that you did not know that you were aiding a criminal is no excuse."  
"May I remind, my Lord, that I helped a Peacekeeper Captain whose timely arrival saved not only my ship, my crew, my marauders, but this very system to which we are contracted to defend. And he turned what would have definitely been a terrible defeat into an overwhelming victory."  
Turan continued to repeat the charges for yet another time, interested on testing the limits of the Commander's patience. "Yes, well, you not only refitted and resupplied Crais' carrier with Peacekeeper tribute supplies from the Sorthans, you also repaired his ship and provided him with your marauders as well."  
"I knew reinforcements were on the way to replace my losses. He said he needed my marauders to track down a dangerous enemy to our people who he was pursuing. These were all reasonable requests considering my knowledge at the time. Given the peculiar fact that the Council has not seen fit to list him as a criminal in any communiqué; and that he is in fact still listed on the active rolls as a distinguished Captain, even if you wish to blame me - then you have no cause to charge and punish my crew who were only following my orders."  
"No Commander, it's not that simple - and you know it. What do you think the effect be if the Council were to suddenly announce that one of our ship commanders, captain of a command carrier no less, has gone renegade? Can you imagine the effect this would have on the fleet? On our subject peoples? Even amongst our numerous enemies? There would be panic and confusion in every sector bordering the Uncharted Territories. No Commander, there will never be any such communiqué To those outside this room, Crais is still a hero. When we capture and execute him, we will give him a hero's funeral as well. He'll have a trial first - secret of course."  
"And no doubt, very fair," Sun added.  
"Well, you would be better able to judge that than I," Turan smiled. "Now, as to your fate and that of your crew..." Turan clicked a button on the console in front of him. "Having been judged unworthy of your command, you are stripped of commander's rank and reduced to that of a ship's captain. You will also loose command of your battlecruiser and every member of your crew is to be reduced in rank and relocated. The fact that you've not told your crew anything has probably saved their lives, at least."  
Aeryn thought she was prepared for the worst, but the finality of this - the loss of her ship, hers for over fifteen cycles, and the crew that she had nurtured and cultivated, these hit her deeply. She sagged a moment but then seeing Turan watching her, snapped back to attention, glaring back at him lest he try and mock or pity her in her fall.  
"Your crew will be relocated to the new ship that has just entered orbit. It is a new ship in every respect. It is smaller than your Avenger, so I will only want your best people. You're free to ask for any personnel you deem fit - and I assure you they will be yours as will any material needs you express within reason. " He turned the console so that Aeryn could see her new ship.  
"I... I don't understand," she finally said. "You're giving me a new ship? Why?"  
But Turan ignored the question, preferring to answer it in a roundabout fashion. "It is a scout carrier, much smaller and much faster than a command carrier. It lacks any significant armament but it possesses great communications and stealth ability that Crais does not have. With only two prowlers, it's main strength is in its compliment of sixteen marauders. These give it an extended ability to conduct long term reconnaisance-in-force missions deep inside enemy territory. Also, it is well suited to small scale planetary actions. It lacks the colourful sobriquet of your former ship. This one has been christened by the techs who built it as the _Reyahko_. To outfit your marauder compliment, I've gleaned the most ambitious, violent, and feared marauder crews in the fleet, breaking the hearts of many a captain in the process. They are your most challenging duty now, Captain. They are demons on a chain. You'll have to keep that chain well in hand or they'll turn on each other - or you."  
"Why? You didn't answer my question. Why give me a another ship, let me keep my crew if I'm disgraced?"  
"Your first duty," Turan continued, again ignoring Aeryn, "will be to enter the Uncharted Territories, track down and capture the renegade, Crais; and return his command carrier, a not inconsiderable asset, back to the Fleet. Thereby you will remove the spot on your honor and that of your crew."  
Aeryn nodded. "A worthy mission. I don't understand, but I accept."  
"Accept? You act is if I'm giving you a choice, Captain. This mission is your last chance. If you fail, I'll have you and your officers stripped of rank and turned into low grade sanitation techs on a prison planet. Is that understood?"  
"Not totally, my Lord." Aeryn said, keeping her anger in check. "You've given me a faster ship. But what am I to do once I find Crais? What if he doesn't want to come back? I hardly have the means to force him."  
Turan liked the way she said that she would find Crais matter of factly. There was no doubt whatsoever in her mind. Now she was just asking a tactical question. He had indeed chosen very well.  
"Well, that is a problem. Ships crews are very loyal to their captains. You try to order Crais' crew to arrest him, and they're more likely to execute you on his order - as yours would do for him. No, you'll need someone whose authority is unquestionable to anyone of Sebacean blood. For that reason, you'll also be taking a passenger. Tell me, does it trouble you that you might have to destroy marauder crews that you once commanded - those that you turned over to Crais?"  
"No, my Lord, if that is the mission, it does not. But who, may I ask, is this passenger you mentioned?" Aeryn knew the answer but she wanted it stated openly nonetheless.  
"My gear is already aboard," Turan told Aeryn, confirming her thought. "I will be traveling light, without a staff. It should be an interesting journey, don't you think?"  
Aeryn didn't answer.  
"You will still say nothing of the final goal of this mission to all save your senior officers and the marauder commanders - and then only once we are well inside the Uncharted Territories. Is that clear?"  
Aeryn nodded. "Very clear, my Lord."  
Turan turned the screen of the console back towards him. "We've got some intelligence back on those aliens you fought. It turns out that they were Vl'gani."  
"Vl'gani? I thought they were..."  
"...Light years away from here - on the other side of the galaxy in fact. Which tells us that either they're farther ranging than we thought; or that their empire is so huge that it must span the galaxy. We knew little about them - still don't really. We knew we would encounter them one day - just not all the way out here. Their expansion has pushed several stellar empires into conflict with us as these peoples seek new homes, fleeing before the Vl'gani hordes that have destroyed their own homeworlds. You have quite a distinction, Captain. You're not only the first Peacekeeper captain to encounter the Vl'gani, but the first to fight and defeat them as well. How does that feel?"  
"It is a distinction I would have gladly done without," Aeryn said dryly.  
"Yes, I imagine so," Turan smiled.  
There was a knock at the door. One of Turan's aids peeked in.  
"I am sorry, my Lord Vykir. The Sorthan Do-gan insists on seeing you."  
Turan nodded. "Send him in. I am done with Captain Sun." He pointed at Aeryn. "Stay for a moment."  
The Do-gan, leader of the Sorthan planets, strode into what had been his office until recently, looking around at the bleak emptiness. Nonetheless he beamed a great smile at both Turan and Aeryn.  
"Ah, I've found you both together. I take it you were not informed. I do apologize. If you hurry, we can just make the ceremony."  
"Ceremony?" Turan asked, looking at Aeryn.  
Aeryn shook her head. She knew nothing of any ceremony.  
"Ah yes, the Do-gan smiled. We're dedicating the memorial to your brave Peacekeepers. My people are so full of joy for being saved from the aliens that they have voluntarily put up this great statue to your people. My Lord Vykir, I cannot tell you how much we were touched by the tremendous courage and sacrifice shown by your warriors. Never would we have thought to see such selflessness by offworlders on our behalf. You must come with me so you can witness the gratitude of the Sorthan people."  
"Gratitude?" Turan seemed genuinely surprised. "Do-gan, understand that neither I nor any other Peacekeeper cares one bit about your gratitude - or your memorial. What we care about is that you pay us tribute. That is all. You will continue to pay us tribute just as we will continue to guard your planets and maintain order. If you should ever fail to d how much we were touched by the tremendous courage and sacrifice shown by your warriors. Never would we have thought to see such selflessness by offworlders on our behalf. You must come with me so you can witness the gratitude of the Sorthan people."  
"Gratitude?" Turan seemed genuinely surprised. "Do-gan, understand that neither I nor any other Peacekeeper cares one bit about your gratitude - or your memorial. What we care about is that you pay us tribute. That is all. You will continue to pay us tribute just as we will continue to guard your planets and maintain order. If you should ever fail to deliver the full tribute by even one unit, a Peacekeeper fleet will come here and will enslave every living being on every planet. You, your family, your people will be shipped off to prison worlds to work as forced laborers. And we'll blast this place into naked rock, scrubbing it clean of even the air you now breathe as an example to others who are perhaps thinking of not paying their tribute. I hope for the sake of your very grateful people that this is very very clear."  
Turan turned back to Aeryn.  
"Captain, I will next see you onboard your new ship."  
Having said this, he picked up his console and walked out of the room. Aeryn silently followed, leaving the stunned Do-gan to stand in his empty office, alone, angry, and with the taste of fear creeping into his mouth. He had brought the Peacekeepers to his people. Now the full meaning of that "alliance" was making itself known.

   [1]: http://www.henson.com/home/index.html
   [2]: http://www.scifi.com/farscape/
   [3]: http://www.scifi.com/
   [4]: http://www.oe-pages.com/ARTS/TV/jhc11/



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